Beginning, Section II, Next Section

Chapter 5

Posted on Wednesday, 5 October 2005

On peering into the carriage it became instantly clear to Darcy that this “short tour” had been arranged for certain members of the family only, and that he and Georgiana were the obligatory, if not the honorary, guests. Therefore, with no intention of allowing his aunts to distress his sister with their threats and accusations, he backed away, turned round to her and said, “Georgie, I think you should fetch a warm shawl from your room; the weather is turning cooler.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Darcy!” put in Aunt Matlock, “It won’t cool off until much later this afternoon, and we will surely be back by then.”

“I insist, Georgiana,” he responded sternly, placing himself between his sister and the carriage in such a way as to block the view of those inside. “Find Richard and remain with him,” he whispered. “Do not return!”

Georgiana stared at him incredulously for a moment, but noting his unyielding countenance, nodded, whirled herself about, and hastily made her way towards the inn. The passengers in the coach gawked at the sight of her fleeing, but Darcy paid them no mind and took that awkward moment to hop inside, close the door and signal the driver to be off.

“Now we may proceed,” he declared, settling back on the seat beside his uncle and struggling to remain calm. “And since this little excursion was especially planned for my benefit, I see no reason why Georgiana should be troubled by what is said here this afternoon. I insist that she be spared any future unpleasantness, whatever your frustration or anger with me!” His eyes blazed.

“We see things quite differently, Darcy!” retorted his Aunt Catherine with disdain. “Georgiana is directly affected by your irresponsible behavior and should know how recklessly you are tampering with her future happiness.”

“Tampering with her future happiness?” repeated Darcy indignantly. “That is rich, Aunt—even for you! Pray tell how I am tampering with her future happiness by offering to Miss Bennet? Georgiana greatly admires her and has become genuinely attached to her after only a very short acquaintance. Why, she is as anxious to have Elizabeth for a sister as I am to have her for my wife!” he said passionately.

Having blurted out this news in such a tactless manner, Darcy immediately felt some remorse. He saw that his words had struck a painful chord with his aunt and was sorry to have crushed her long-standing dream so callously. He now softened his expression as well as his tone.

“Dear Aunt, forgive me for thrusting this upon you so suddenly…but surely you must know that Anne and I have never had more than familial affection for one another. Indeed, we are only now becoming close friends and coming a true understanding of each other’s feelings. Anne has no desire to be my wife, and, forgive me for saying so, Aunt, but I have never taken this supposed engagement seriously. On the contrary, I have always believed that my parents wished me to marry a woman of my own choosing—their own happy marriage setting the example for me to emulate.”

On hearing these words, Lady Catherine was stunned into uncharacteristic silence and sat fuming as Lady Matlock took up the petition.

“My dearest boy, your future happiness is precisely what concerns us. We can well understand your present infatuation with this young woman … but such feelings diminish with time and familiarity, and it is then that true compatibility becomes crucial and determines the strength of a marriage. From what I understand, this young woman’s family has virtually no standing in good society—her father having married far beneath him, bringing all sorts of undeserving people into the family. What is more, there is no wealth there—nothing that can be offered towards the upkeep and advancement of Pemberley. And worst of all is that ruinous scandal concerning her younger sister! You cannot be serious in considering such a woman as the future Mistress of Pemberley? Surely your dear parents would not approve of such a match!”

“Indeed, you have always shared our feelings on these matters, Darcy,” interrupted his uncle, gently pressing his arm. “I am shocked to hear of your unorthodox choice. She may be a charming little wench, my boy, but is she worthy of carrying the Darcy name—of being mother to your children? If you and Anne have no amorous feelings for one another, then choose another,” said the Earl, casting an apologetic glance at his sister, “but do not disgrace the entire family and perhaps ruin your sister’s chances of making a match truly worthy of her station in life.”

“If my sister is fortunate enough to find a man whose love for her is as pure and genuine as I believe Miss Bennet’s is for me,” said Darcy, “she will be making an exceptional match indeed! And should a prospective suitor’s affections be so fleeting as to be put off by my marriage, I believe Georgiana would lose all regard for him.

You are, however, correct in believing, Uncle, that I once shared your belief in the importance of rank and fortune in marriage. But over the past year I have come to a deeper understanding of what is important to me— and what I require in a wife. Miss Bennet is the only woman who has met … nay, exceeded these ideals and who has unwittingly stolen my heart. I cannot do without her and I have no intention of trying to do so! By tomorrow morning Miss Elizabeth Bennet will be my intended,” he said softly, but firmly, “and I sincerely hope that you can all reconcile yourselves to that fact. It would sadden me to lose your affection and esteem, but I will not trade my future happiness for your approval. Now, as this discussion is over, I wish you would excuse me,” said Darcy, tapping the roof of the coach with his cane and signaling the driver to stop. He opened the door and jumped out even before the coachman could sufficiently slow the team. “I shall see you back at the inn,” he said, now walking along beside them. “Perhaps the walk back will help to tame the beast presently residing within my chest!”

Darcy had wanted to put Georgiana’s mind at ease immediately upon his return—to reassure her that all was well between himself and the family, but as she was dressing for dinner when he arrived, the discussion had to be postponed. He bathed and dressed in haste, making certain that he would be in time to intercept her before she ventured down to the dining room. Had his aunts heeded his demand concerning Georgiana, he wondered, or had they involved her after all?

Throughout his preparations his thoughts alternated between his sister and his beloved Elizabeth. Instinct told him to search her out this very evening—not to wait another moment! The morning seemed so far away and with the keen disapproval of his family he felt the need to secure the union as soon as possible. He checked the time as he slipped his watch into his pocket. Should he, perhaps, try and see her now, before meeting with any his relations again? Noting the hour, however, he realized that Elizabeth would be greatly occupied with the care of the child. After dinner then, he determined. He would suffer through the meal, make his excuses and cross the gardens. The realization that this was not the first time that he had fled his aunt’s company to ask for Elizabeth’s hand unnerved him for a moment, but the memory of that painful day only strengthened his resolve. Elizabeth loved him! He was certain of it now.

With Georgiana forewarned and his cousins enlisted to keep the conversation light and easy, Darcy sat through an agonizingly long meal, at the end of which, he found himself obliged to remain with the family for the rest of the evening! His uncle had organized an evening of chess and billiards with several other gentlemen, including Sir Robert, and Darcy could find no diplomatic way of refusing to participate. It was unbelievably frustrating! He suspected that it had all been intentionally arranged to keep him at the inn for the night, but however suspect the motivation, he could not dishonor his uncle by deserting him. And so he drank his port, smoked his cigars and did his best to keep his focus on whatever game was being played

While the gentlemen were thus engaged, the ladies sat in the music room listening to Georgiana as she worked on sections of the Mozart piano concerto she was currently studying. When she tired of practicing, Aunt Matlock suggested they continue their reading of the novel Anne had brought along, and the two young women made themselves comfortable on the settee beside their aunts. Lady Matlock read with great expression, and as she listened, Georgiana thought fondly of the times that she had been ill as a child, and of the great comfort her aunt’s voice had brought her. Lady Matlock had done what she could at such times to substitute for her dear departed sister and bestow some motherly affection on her niece, and in return, she had won Georgiana’s love and devotion. A rift between them would be truly painful, but her love for Fitzwilliam and her growing fondness for Elizabeth overshadowed all. Not since Ramsgate had she felt so anxious and apprehensive! Yet now, as then, she knew that her allegiance lay with her brother.

The ladies took turns reading aloud until aunt Catherine declared it too late for Anne to be up and insisted that the younger ladies go to bed. As had become their little ritual, Georgiana and Anne made a show of protesting— but being secretly happy to be gaining their freedom, rose obediently and said their good nights. After preparing themselves for bed, they would ring for some hot chocolate and sneak into one or the other of their rooms where they would talk and joke until all hours of the morning. On this particular evening they met in Georgiana’s bedchamber, in the event that her brother wished to speak to her before retiring.

By one in the morning, with her eyelids fighting to remain open, Anne kissed Georgiana good night and headed for her own room. As usual, she chose to cross the attached balconies, thereby avoiding being seen in the corridor. And as the night was so mild and filled with brilliant stars, she lingered a bit outside her door, enjoying the quiet and the rose-scented air. The doors to Lady Catherine’s room, on the other side, were slightly ajar, and Anne quickly realized that her mother was not alone. The sound of her ladyship’s voice drifted out to her.

“You must realize that this may very likely have a negative effect on Richard’s chances as well. It is not only poor Georgiana and my dear Anne who will suffer from his selfishness.”

“Richard?” Anne heard her uncle say, “How could he be affected by Fitzwilliam’s choice?”

Oh, really, brother!” replied Lady Catherine impatiently. “Do you not realize the advantage Richard has in his tight kinship with Darcy? That the entire ton knows they are as thick as brothers and that Richard feels as much at home at Darcy’s as he does in his own home? Why he comes and goes as he pleases while in town! The prospect of being able to spend some months at Pemberley each year and part of the Season in town with the Darcys would certainly be an inducement to any young lady to connect herself with our family.”

The Earl shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “I would hope, Sister, that the young lady destined to be my daughter-in-law would have more passionate reasons for choosing my son as her husband! He may not be my first-born, but he is handsome, witty and very clever— and when he puts his mind to it, his manners are impeccable! I believe that in essentials, he is perhaps a better catch than his brother. A young woman would never want for affection or amusement with Richard!”

“Do not take offense, brother, but think only that the lady involved would not be making the decision to marry on her own! Her parents would wish to make an advantageous alliance for her, and a close connection with Darcy would be but one more incentive. Of course, Darcy’s casting off good society in favor of this strumpet would not please any respectable family!”

“That is true,” murmured Lady Matlock just loud enough for Anne to hear. “But what are we to do, Sister? Darcy seems determined to have this Miss Bennet and he is, after all, of an age that makes it difficult for us to demand his compliance. He is financially independent, and obviously willing to risk the damage to his reputation. I don’t see what chance we have of persuading him to reconsider.”

“There is but one predicament that would give him pause to rethink his shameful proposal, Sister, …and that is the loss of his guardianship over Georgiana. You and I have often discussed the unsuitability of a young, unmarried man being responsible for a young woman about to come out into society. And with this flagrant disregard of his duty to his family, any responsible magistrate would agree that he should lose such a privilege.”

“Isn’t that taking things a bit far?” said the Earl, obviously uneasy with the idea.

‘To secure the honor of this family and safeguard the happiness of all our children, I think it is wholly justified, Brother! Are we to let Darcy’s infatuation with this girl play havoc with the lives of so many? I think not! It is our duty to protect Georgiana. Our sister Anne would expect nothing less.”

“But as soon as we give him such an ultimatum, he will surely take Georgiana and flee. He will not take such a threat lightly and may hide her away from us for G-d only knows how long! By then he may have married this Miss Bennet and the damage will have been done,” said Lady Matlock.

“And that is why we must act immediately—tonight, before we even inform him of our intentions! When Darcy wakes tomorrow morning, long before he has had the chance to disgrace himself with this woman, he will find his sister gone and his choices clearly laid out before him. He will have no other choice but to abide by our wishes! And once bound by the honor of his word, our nephew will not renege on his pledge.”

“But what of Georgiana, Sister? She will be convinced that her brother is being forced to sacrifice his own happiness for hers, and that will not sit well with her. You know how completely devoted she is to him! What effect will this have on her? She is only now overcoming a little of her shyness.”

“She trusts you best, Sister, so it will be your task to persuade her that all this is being done for the eventual happiness of her brother as well as her own. You and my brother need only take her away for a day or two. I am certain that this will be resolved as soon as Darcy understands that we have the upper hand. Our nephew is no fool.”

“Well,” said Lady Matlock, hesitantly, “I suppose if there is no alternative … and the time element is such that …”

Anne did not wait to hear anything more. She flew into her own room and then out into the corridor. Within a moment, she was standing before Darcy’s valet, who though bleary-eyed, was clearly embarrassed at the sight of her in her nightclothes.

“Forgive me, Miss de Bourgh,” he said in a whisper, casting his eyes to the floor, “but Master Darcy is abed and very likely already asleep.”

“Then wake him! Do it quickly before I come in and do it myself! This is an emergency, and you are wasting precious time!”

As soon as Darcy understood the situation, he ordered his man to wake the Colonel and to pack a small satchel of essentials for him. Anne was dispatched to rouse Georgiana and do the same, while he made his way out to the stables through the servants’ entrance. He led two horses quietly down a side road, murmuring soothingly to them as he went, and before fifteen minutes had passed, he was helping his sister mount the horse they would share for the journey. Bending to press Anne’s hand, he said, “You must explain my sudden departure to Elizabeth, Anne! I could not take the time to write. Promise me! She must not be left to believe that I have deserted her yet again!” he pleaded.

“You have my word, Fitzwilliam. May G-d be with you! I fear for your travel in the dark.”

“The moon is blessedly full tonight and we will travel cautiously only to the next hamlet and wait there till dawn to proceed. I should be back in a few days. Assure Elizabeth that I love her!”

Chapter 6

Posted on Saturday, 8 October 2005

Elizabeth sat gazing at her own image as Betsy carefully arranged and pinned each cascading curl from the crown of her head. Completely unaccustomed to such tasks, Betsy struggled to please, wishing that she had actually seen how Miss Elizabeth’s hair had been styled for the ball she kept referring to.

“And I also found the loveliest white flowers that we interlaced here and there—but then, it was a rather formal occasion,” said Elizabeth, encouraging the young woman with an approving smile.

“You must have looked very beautiful, Miss Elizabeth,” said Betsy.

“Oh no, not beautiful! I would save that description for my sister Jane. But I did feel rather pretty that evening and I believe there were others that thought so, too.” Elizabeth blushed at the thought of Fitzwilliam’s face—so painfully rigid and unreadable as he asked her to dance. Never before had she considered the courage it must have taken him to approach her with Charlotte there to witness his possible humiliation, had she refused him.

Did he have feelings for me even then? she wondered.

She had misjudged Fitzwilliam Darcy from the first and had continued to misunderstand him even after all that had passed between them at Pemberley. Truly, she did not deserve his love and was finding it difficult to believe that he could still want her! Lady Catherine’s disapproval was certain, but what other sacrifices would he have to make? Though these worries gnawed at her, Elizabeth was determined to ignore them. If Fitzwilliam’s love were strong enough to withstand such censure, she would have to find the courage to forgive her own foolishness and allow herself to be happy. Yet even now, she pinched herself to see if it were really true! Had this miraculous day really come?

The gown she had chosen to wear was too formal for a morning’s walk in the garden, but all the others had gone through countless washings to remove the stains that Jonathan had inflicted on them—and she would not accept Fitzwilliam Darcy in a shabby gown! Would he realize that she was dressed just as she had been at the Netherfield ball? She laughed at herself. After all that they had both suffered, how could any of this matter!

Too nervous to eat, she now sat at the breakfast table with Sir Robert and sipped her tea, attempting to answer his questions in an easygoing manner.

“You’re looking especially lovely this morning, Elizabeth,” he said, eyeing her thoughtfully. “Would that this fuss were for me…but I dare say it is not. Pray tell me, has royalty arrived at the inn?”

“I’m to meet Miss Darcy for a walk, Sir Robert; that is all. My other gowns were so stained that I decided to wear this one. It is a bit fussy for a stroll in the gardens, I know. Do I look terribly silly?” she asked, laughing lightly. “Do you think Miss Darcy will realize that I am wearing my very best when she dresses in such finery every day?”

“And is that why you didn’t take your morning ramble? I thought you might be ill when I heard that you were still in your room. Will Miss Darcy be coming here to fetch you?”

“Oh,” stammered Elizabeth, suddenly flustered. “I don’t know. I don’t think so—though we didn’t specify where we were to meet. But it is still early,” she finally said with conviction. “I shall wait here for a while and then meander over to meet her.”

“Excellent! Then I shall have the pleasure of your company a little while longer; I wanted to talk to you this morning. Come dine with me at the inn this afternoon. I have some happy news to relate and will abide no distractions from children or servants. What do you say to one o’clock? Surely your visit with Miss Darcy will have ended by then?”

“I would be happy to,” said Elizabeth, hesitantly, “if only I were certain that Miss Darcy didn’t expect me to dine with her and her brother. I believe she said something to that effect when we first made the arrangement. I would not wish to keep you waiting.”

“Elizabeth,” he now said, looking intently at her, “why is it that despite your physical presence here, I feel as if I have already lost you?”

“I suppose it is because you know my time here is at an end,” she replied, not daring to look at him as she spoke.

“Well, don’t pack your trunks just yet, my sweet—not before you hear my news!” he grinned and then drained his cup.

Surprised and a bit uneasy at this pronouncement, Elizabeth asked, “Well, won’t you tell me what it is now? I shan’t be rushing off just yet.”

“No, I want us to be sharing a fine bottle of wine and enjoying a good meal when I make my news known. I wish to savour the moment and the look on your face! You will not cheat me of that, my dear Miss Bennet!”

“Very well, I shall try to keep our appointment, but I cannot promise, you understand. I will, of course send word to you if I cannot come,” said Elizabeth, rising from her chair. “Now if you will excuse me, I have some instructions for Betsy concerning Jonathan.”

After briefly visiting the nursery, Elizabeth wandered about the house, avoiding Sir Robert, but making certain that she had a view of the gardens, should Mr. Darcy approach. The plan for their rendezvous had not been explicit, but she felt it only natural that he would come for her. She waited and paced—then waited and paced some more. Finally, she sat and tried to read a little, anxiously peering out at the gardens every now and then and becoming more and more anxious as the morning wore on. An hour passed, then another, and by eleven o’clock she felt herself close to tears. Where was he? Had he not said that he would see her after her morning ramble? She had not expected him to know the exact time of her return, but surely he had meant before noon! The sun was now directly overhead and the morning would soon be over. Had she misunderstood him? Had she only dreamt yesterday’s miraculous events?

Ruminating on these thoughts, she was suddenly startled by Sir Robert as he passed her, deep in conversation with his steward.

“Ah, Miss Bennet,” he said, stressing her family name. He was always so ridiculously proud of himself when he remembered not to call her Elizabeth. “Are you back from your walk already? That is good news!”

“Oh, no sir. Miss Darcy was delayed and I am just now going to join her. Please excuse me,” she said curtsying and hastily making her escape. She had no choice now but to head towards the inn, as embarrassing as that would be! What else could she do? Her mind raced. Where was Fitzwilliam? And why was he putting her in this terrible predicament?

Before she knew it she was at the front entrance, smiling at those who greeted her and wishing that she could become invisible! Her face felt hot and flushed, and she was certain that everyone could read her thoughts and see directly into her heart. She prayed she would not run into Fitzwilliam now.

“Have you come for the post, Miss Elizabeth?” came the familiar voice from behind the front desk.

“Oh, yes! Thank you, Mr. Simmons,” she said, grateful to have been offered a logical explanation for being there. “Has a letter arrived from Hertfordshire?”

“Yes indeed! But Sir Robert picked it up himself early this morning, Miss.”

“That is odd; he did not pass it on to me,” replied Elizabeth, a bit bewildered.

“It wasn’t addressed to you, Miss. That particular letter was addressed to him, but this one from London bears your name.”

Elizabeth took the missive and saw immediately that it was from her Aunt Gardiner. Nodding her appreciation, she curtsied and was about to leave when she turned back and asked, “I was hoping to run into Miss Darcy this morning. Is she perhaps in the dining room with her family?”

“Miss Darcy? Oh no, Ma’am! The Darcys left Braemar very early this morning! The Matlocks and de Bourghs will remain as planned, I believe, but the Darcys have gone. I can’t imagine why they left so suddenly, but it must have been a matter of some urgency. They departed even before the morning fires were lit.”

Elizabeth felt her very breath being violently sucked from her body. In desperate need of air, she gasped and steadied herself against the counter. It wasn’t possible! … Had Fitzwilliam fled? Had he run from her yet again and without a word? She clutched her trembling hands to her heart and dared to inquire, “Did Miss Darcy leave a message for me, by chance? We had planned an outing today.”

“No, Miss Elizabeth. I’m terribly sorry, but there were no messages at all.”

Anne de Bourgh had been locked in her room all morning and a footman had been stationed outside her balcony door to ensure she would neither escape nor communicate with anyone. Lady Catherine’s fury had made her suspicious even of Anne, and when, upon questioning her daughter most severely her Ladyship had noted a subtle tone of defiance, she lost her temper as well as her reason. Lady Matlock had come to Anne’s defense, insisting that no matter what had transpired before his departure, Darcy’s decision to leave was his own and that Anne could not be held responsible. Indeed, if anyone was to blame, it had to be Richard, for he had accompanied Darcy, perhaps even encouraged him, betraying both his parents. Nevertheless, Lady Catherine was adamant that Anne be secluded and not given the opportunity to converse with that mercenary wench who was about to ruin them all!

Anne had been served breakfast in her room, but the Earl, now deeply disturbed by the machinations that had come to mar his special holiday, demanded that his niece be allowed to dine with what remained of his family. The other guests were already gossiping about the strange behaviour of his clan and he was not about to add fuel to the fire. So it was that Anne de Bourgh, flanked by her mother and her aunt, descended the stairs, just as Elizabeth was trying to regain enough composure to leave the inn. Their eyes met, and Anne, desperate to convey her cousin’s message, looked longingly at Elizabeth. Elizabeth, attuned only to her own anguish, read mocking contempt in the intensity of her gaze and walked past her with as much dignity as she could manage.

She had taken only a few steps and was almost at the threshold of the entrance when Sir Robert bounded towards her. Seeing the expression on her face, he took her arm and led her out onto the portico. At that moment, she could not have been more grateful for his rescue. Part of her wished to flee to the solitude of her room, while the other ached to collapse into the safety of his arms. Yet pride determined her course of action. Looking away from him towards the mountains— and trying desperately not to cry—she murmured, “It seems Miss Darcy and her brother have left Braemar. I imagine she forgot all about our little outing.”

“The very rich can be so thoughtless!” murmured Sir Robert, pressing her hand. “I can see you are sorely disappointed and much offended, Elizabeth, but don’t take her neglect so to heart. She is not worth your tears.”

It was only then that Elizabeth realized that the tears she had been trying so desperately to control had found their own way down her cheeks.

“Oh no! You must not think so meanly of her!” said Elizabeth, horrified at attributing anything unkind to Georgiana. “She is normally the sweetest and most thoughtful of young women. I am sure that there were circumstances which she could not control.”

“As always, it is you who are too kind and generous! But come, dry your eyes and allow me to brighten your somber mood. I have arranged for a quiet table by the window, and a few sips of that wonderful wine I ordered will do you a world of good just now.” He gently grasped her elbow and attempted to lead her back inside.

“I must go home, Sir Robert, please! Allow me to leave without a fuss. I am in no condition to be seen by anyone and cannot imagine sitting in a dining room full with people. Please let me go. We can have our talk later.”

“Elizabeth,” said Sir Robert in the gentlest of voices, “at this very moment, no less than ten people, the Matlocks and de Bourghs included, are whispering about what could have possibly upset you so! If we are to stop their gossiping you must remain here and disappoint them with a show of strength. I have an excellent excuse for your tears if you would but add a little smile to your countenance. Trust me, Elizabeth, and all will be well. Though my news is of the happiest kind, a few tears would not be an inappropriate response to it, and you can save face with very little effort. Come,” he said, handing her his handkerchief, “you know I would do nothing to hurt or embarrass you.”

Feeling numb and completely helpless, Elizabeth dabbed at her eyes and allowed Sir Robert to lead her into the dining room. He, himself, pushed in her chair and immediately poured her half a glass of wine. She waited for him to be seated and to serve himself before taking several sips and smiling awkwardly back at him.

“Thank you, Sir Robert. As always, you are too good to me. I know that displaying a little dignity just now is the right thing to do, but I would not be capable of it on my own.”

He smiled lovingly at her, pulled a letter from his breast pocket and handed it to her. “This should make you genuinely happy!” he said.

She immediately recognized her father’s hand and unfolding the missive, eagerly drank in his words. Sir Robert had been right! A few tears would not be inappropriate! But it was the last thing in the world she would have wanted—especially now! How could she bear to remain here yet another month, entertaining her family and pretending that everything was right with the world? No! This was dreadful news! Dreadful, horrible news!

“It was very thoughtful of you to invite them,” she murmured, trying her best to keep a happy countenance. But the muscles about her mouth and eyes refused to produce the expression she wished to present to him. In her emotional state she was too upset to notice that all eyes had shifted from her to a commotion at a larger table in the middle of the room.

“I WILL NOT SIT DOWN! I DEMAND TO SPEAK TO THE PROPRIEITOR THIS INSTANT! WHAT SORT OF ESTABLISHMENT IS THIS TO ALLOW SUCH GOINGS ON?” Lady Catherine’s booming voice suddenly broke through the fog of Elizabeth’s mind, and she became aware that her Ladyship was staring directly at her!

Mr. Simmons was hastily summoned, and was now bowing and scraping before Lady Catherine, asking what he could possibly do to be of service to her.

“I am not accustomed to dining with my servants!” she loudly declared. “And I will not share this dining room with the servants of others! Why is that woman allowed to sit among us?” she said with venomous disdain, still glaring at Elizabeth. “She is a common nanny and has no business mingling with unsuspecting ladies and gentlemen. I want her removed immediately or my family shall depart and spread the word that this is no place for people of good breeding to spend their holidays!”

Anne brought her hand to her mouth, while her uncle’s eyes widened and his jaw dropped. Sir Robert was already out of his seat and striding towards her Ladyship when Elizabeth cried out, “Sir Robert, no! Please don’t!” Indeed, even the walls of the dining room seemed to lean in to hear his words.

“I beg your pardon, Madam?” he said indignantly. “You have insulted the lovely lady with whom I am dining and I demand that you apologize to her at once! Miss Elizabeth Bennet is no hired servant, but even if she were, it would be no business of yours. It is I who am enjoying her company and you, Madam, have not been invited to our table!” His eyes blazed as he stared at her Ladyship with obvious revulsion.

“If she is not your servant, Sir Robert, then I wonder what function she serves in your household!” retorted Lady Catherine, completely unaffected by his penetrating stare. “Is she so close a relation that she can reside in your home for months on end without another lady or a chaperone present? I can well understand your gallant defense of her when she is clearly so important to your personal happiness, sir—you a widower, unable to keep proper company before your year of mourning is out!” Lady Catherine lifted her chin still higher, clearly proud of her performance.

Enraged, Sir Robert instinctively raised his hand to strike her, then quickly lowered it again as the entire room let out an audible sigh of relief. A guttural growl escaped his lips. “If you were a man I would call you out, Madam! As it is, there is no need for me to disgrace you or prove you wrong. You have done that well enough yourself! Anyone who knows the character of Miss Elizabeth Bennet and the charity with which …”

Elizabeth could not bear to listen to another word. With everyone focused on Sir Robert, she backed herself against the wall and quietly made her way out of the dining room and into the open air. Though feeling faint, she willed her feet to move her forword through the garden.

Anne now saw her opportunity as well, and easing herself from her chair, inconspicuously left the room to run after Elizabeth. She had great difficulty in doing so, however, as her limited breath was being spent on choking back her sobs.

“Miss Bennet, wait! Please! I must speak to you. I cannot run as fast as you. Please stop! I beg you!”

Elizabeth heard the faint plea but did not stop to acknowledge it or even determine its source. She had to get to her room, to the few necessities she would pack before fleeing this awful place. She wished to be away even before Sir Robert returned, and although she knew it was impossible to accomplish, she was determined to try. She could not face anyone! Not even him!

“Please, Miss Bennet! Elizabeth! I have a message from my cousin! Please stop and wait for me! Please.”

At these words, Elizabeth whirled about and shouted back indignantly, “Forgive me for not making it easier for you to further humiliate me, Miss de Bourgh! And as for your cousin, if he has something to say to me, let him do it to my face! I don’t wish to hear his words from you!” And with that Elizabeth ran on.

She had gone only a short distance when she heard an odd thump and a muffled cry. In a sudden panic, she turned to see Anne de Bourgh lying very still on the ground, some thirty yards away.

“Dear G-d, what have I done!” she murmured as she ran back towards Anne’s lifeless form. “Why did I allow her chase me? Oh G-d, please, let her be all right!”

She could see that Anne’s left foot had caught and twisted on a root, and as she lowered herself to Anne’s side, she noted a trickle of blood oozing from a cut on her forehead. Silently weeping and murmuring Anne’s name, Elizabeth gently dislodged the foot and seated herself on the ground to lift Anne’s head onto her lap. Stroking the hair away from the wound, she continued to call her name.

“Anne, please wake up. Open your eyes and look at me! I am so sorry. I should have stopped; I should have waited. Please, Anne!” she continued to weep, fanning Anne’s face and stroking her brow.

After what seemed like an eternity, Anne de Bourgh opened her eyes and let out a soft moan. On seeing Elizabeth, however, she smiled.

“Oh Miss de Bourgh! Thank G-d you are conscious! I was so frightened! Are you in pain? Does your leg hurt, or your head? Can you see me clearly?” She rattled off one question after another without waiting to hear the response, but then fell silent and simply gazed at the gentle, smiling face looking up at her.

“I much preferred it when you called me Anne. I do so want us to be good friends—close and loving cousins, in fact.”

Elizabeth stared at her in astonishment.

“Miss Bennet, you must believe me! My cousin’s sudden departure from Braemar had nothing to do with you. I have never known a man more deeply in love and devoted than Fitzwilliam is to you. Before he fled, he begged me to deliver this message so you would not suffer any distress or doubt. My mother made it impossible for me to seek you out, however. Please forgive me.”

This little speech seemed to tire Anne considerably, and she closed her eyes for a few moments and took some shallow breaths before continuing. “My family threatened to remove Georgiana from Fitzwilliam’s care and legally revoke his right of guardianship. He felt it would devastate Georgiana to know that she was at the center of such family strife and determined it best to spirit her away before any action could be taken. He promised to return as soon as possible and hoped it would take but a few days. You must understand how difficult it was for him to leave you.”

At these words, Elizabeth felt as though her heart would break. “Why are you being so very kind when I am the means of ruining all your hopes concerning your cousin, Miss de Bourgh? You should despise me, especially now when I’ve treated you so cruelly.”

“I assure you that my motives are purely selfish,” said Anne, grinning up at her. “I know your true nature, Elizabeth Bennet, and with you as the Mistress of Pemberley I at least have a chance of being welcome there. You would not prevent me from seeing either of my cousins, no matter how cruelly my mother treated you.” Here again she paused to rest a moment. “It is true that I love Fitzwilliam; I always have—but only as a cousin…or perhaps the attentive and protective brother I had always longed for—nothing more. You have nothing to fear from me, Miss Bennet, and I have everything to gain by befriending you.”

“You shall always have my friendship, Anne,” said Elizabeth softly, “I misjudged you so terribly when we first met and am thoroughly ashamed for it. Please forgive me for that as well. It seems I am blind to all the goodness around me.”

“There is nothing to forgive. You only saw the side of me I was willing to present. It is I who should beg your forgiveness for being deceitful. But let us dwell no more on that pitiful subject. Do you think you are strong enough to help me up?”

“Oh no, Anne, you mustn’t try to stand! Your ankle is sprained, I am sure. Does it not hurt you? Does it not feel swollen inside your shoe?”

“No, I don’t think so. It is just fine. You see, I can move it easily without any pain.”

“I thought for certain that it was badly sprained,” said Elizabeth, surprised. “But perhaps it would still be best if I went for help. You’ve hit your head and the cut is deep. I hate to leave you, even for a moment, but I shall run as fast as I can.” She looked up suddenly, as if searching for someone and said, “I’d have thought that Sir Robert would have passed here by now. I hope your mother hasn’t injured him.”

They looked at each other seriously for one long moment and then burst into laughter.

Anne insisted on pulling herself up into a sitting position, and by circling one arm about Elizabeth’s shoulder and leaning on her, she managed to stand. Her ankle was the slightest bit tender, but she could put weight on it and preferred to walk back on her own accord. They limped along slowly and talked as they progressed.

“Two years ago at Easter when my cousins were at Rosings, a friend of Fitzwilliam’s stopped by with his sister. They only spent the afternoon with us, but I could easily see that the lady was very passionate about becoming the next Mistress of Pemberley. I sincerely doubted that she had one ounce of passion for my cousin, however, and I was very glad to see that he had no interest in her. I remember thinking that had she succeeded in ensnaring him, I would never have been welcome at Pemberley and Fitzwilliam would be lost to me forever! And had he insisted on my visiting from time to time, she would tolerate me only in his presence. What a vile, scheming creature she was! So you see, Elizabeth, I have very decided opinions concerning the future Mrs. Darcy!”

“Well, he hasn’t offered to me yet, Anne, so perhaps all this talk is premature,” said Elizabeth, blushing. Who would have thought that she would find such an ally in Anne de Bourgh? She then thought of Caroline Bingley and smiled.

When they finally reached the inn, Sir Robert was just descending the portico steps, and on seeing them, rushed to lift Anne into his arms and bring her inside. Lady Catherine was enraged when she saw this, shouting at Sir Robert to put Anne down and beating him on the back with her reticule. He lowered Anne gently onto a settee, bowed to her and whispered. “You have my deepest sympathy, Miss de Bourgh! I don’t know how you bear it.”

Not raising his eyes to Lady Catherine, he moved swiftly past her through the gathering crowd to where Elizabeth was waiting outside. But her Ladyship was not yet willing to leave well enough alone. Following him out, she saw Elizabeth, her dress soiled and wrinkled, her face tear-stained and her eyes swollen. She immediately assumed the worst.

“What have you done to my child, you vengeful trollop? Anne is no match for you! Have you no shame to strike someone as fragile as my daughter?”

Elizabeth drew herself up to her full height and looked directly at her accuser. “Speak to your daughter, Lady Catherine. She fell, and I simply helped her home— that is all. If I did lay a hand on her, it was only to soothe. Now, if you will excuse me.”

“Not so fast,” hissed her Ladyship. “I warn you again! If you ruin my nephew’s good name by attaching it to yours, I shall make your life utterly miserable. No one in our society will associate with you! You shall not be able to attend the opera or the theater without being sneered at to your face, and no one shall accept your invitations or even acknowledge you in the street. If you insist on capturing the prize, Miss Bennet, you will spend the rest of your life regretting it!”

“I can see that your love for your nephew runs very deep, your Ladyship,” said Elizabeth coldly. “Good day, Lady Catherine.”

Waiting for Fitzwilliam to return was a torturous business, for Elizabeth thought constantly of Lady Catherine’s threats. She had not taken them so to heart the first time they had been made, but after her Ladyship’s display in the dining room, Elizabeth had no doubt of her ruthlessness. Even if she were willing to endure such public humiliation, did she have the right to inflict it on Fitzwilliam, and through him, Georgiana? Perhaps it would be best for her to end the relationship now and spare them both. Perhaps love was not always enough. And yet her heart ached for him. Now, more than ever, how could she let him go?

Darcy reined in his horse and wondered which way to turn. Finding Elizabeth and reassuring himself that all was well between them was his first priority. Yet he reeked of perspiration after so many hours on the road and his damp clothes were covered with a thick layer of dust. How could he propose to Elizabeth in this condition?

His challenge, at the moment, was to enter the inn without being observed. He had left his valet behind, of course, but had instructed him to admit no knowledge of his departure. Finding him now without being seen would not be easy. And he could not chance meeting with any of his relations, save Anne, before he had committed himself to Elizabeth!

He gave his horse to the groom and offered him a few shillings to guide him through the servants’ entrance to his valet’s quarters. Once there, he washed up in a small basin, had himself shaved and changed into fresh clothes fetched from his trunk. Apparently, his things had been packed and his rooms given away—but he would see to that later. Elizabeth was waiting.

He found her in the garden, seated on a quilted coverlet under a large elm. Her right hand supported the book she was reading, while her left stroked Jonathan’s back as he slept beside her. He approached her quietly, etching into his memory the precious scene before him.

Suddenly aware of his presence, she looked up, and drawing in a sudden breath of surprise and delight, she smiled. All the anxiety of the past few days melted away as he removed his hat and hurried towards her. She rose to meet him, the glow of her smile warming the very depths of his soul. He held out his hand.

Elizabeth pointed towards Jonathan and beckoned Darcy away from the sleeping child. Once they were several feet away, she stopped and turned to him, her eyes filled with tenderness.

“Was it very awful? Is Georgiana all right?”

“She is distressed, of course, but well. The Colonel will see to it that she is distracted, and I plan to fetch her back again as soon as . . .” He did not wish to verbalize the rest. He wanted only to speak of their future happiness.

“Elizabeth! Oh, forgive me,” he suddenly corrected, “Miss Bennet,” he now said more formally, but with the most adoring grin, “how do I begin to tell you . . .”

She quickly placed her fingers on his lips. “Fitzwilliam, wait! Perhaps these words should not be spoken,” she said softly. “Perhaps, despite our feelings, this marriage is unwise.” Tears moistened her lashes as her hand traveled from his mouth to caress his cheek, then fell forlornly to her side. “It is clear to me now that all your relations disapprove of our union and that we will not be the only ones affected by its repercussions.”

“You cannot be serious?” he said in horror. His brow furrowed, his complexion paled.

“I am sadly very serious,” she whispered, casting her eyes to the ground. “I expected disapproval, but not of the sort that would lead your family to take such extreme measures against you. And I know Lady Catherine’s resentment will not be easily abated. She will use all her influence to hurt you… I cannot bear the thought of it, Fitzwilliam!”

“I am not afraid of my aunt’s influence, nor do I think that the Earl and Lady Matlock will harbor ill feelings for long. They are truly good and loving people, Elizabeth. They have been temporarily manipulated by Lady Catherine’s intimidating ways, but I promise you that once they get to know you . . .”

“But that day may never come!” cried Elizabeth. “She has poisoned your entire family against us and will do the same wherever she goes. Life will never be the same for us, Fitzwilliam. Are you prepared to live a life of relative rejection and isolation and to subject Georgiana to our fate? Perhaps even our children will feel the effects of Lady Catherine’s resentment. You must know how painful it is for me to say these things, but I have seen the lengths to which she will go for revenge.”

“What more has she done to you?” Darcy asked with terror in his eyes. “What has occurred in my absence?”

“Nothing,” murmured Elizabeth, “nothing that matters any longer. It is done. But I beg you, Fitzwilliam, think carefully on this. It is not a problem that will easily be resolved.”

“No indeed,” he said, now raging and pacing before her. He walked about twisting his ruby ring, turning suddenly, grimacing and pacing some more. He lengthened his stride, wearing a wide crisscross pattern in the grass. Finally he paused, looked soberly and intently into her eyes and said, “Perhaps you are right, Elizabeth. Your fears for our social standing in the community are legitimate, and it will be difficult to live a normal life without the honour and esteem to which we are both accustomed. There are those who will snub us; that is certain, and we may even suffer the loss of many a friend and acquaintance. I can well understand your concern.”

These were the very words she had been agonizing over since his departure, but hearing them now from his lips was a totally different matter. She was crushed. She turned away to avoid his piercing gaze. Her eyes brimming, she hugged herself to stop her trembling.

“I can picture it now,” he was saying, “Christmas at Pemberley, a few years hence—a pathetic scene indeed.” He took a step towards her and began in a whisper. “The music room has been beautifully decorated and the air is scented with roast goose, cinnamon and cloves. Candles line the center of our richly set table, and the tree is magnificent with its tapers, gifts and ornaments! All is ready and there we are, you and I, awaiting guests that may never come.”

Elizabeth swallowed hard at the picture he presented, then startled and drew in breath as she felt his arms slide along the sides of her torso to encircle her waist. He pressed his chest against her back and rested his cheek against hers.

“All is quiet except for the happy chattering of the Gardiner children as they open their gifts before the fire,” he whispered. “Your sister Jane is there to help them, and she laughs at their antics as they hold up their treasures for the little one in her arms to see. Georgiana and Mary are at the piano, of course, filling the room with festive tunes, and perhaps an admirer or two is standing behind them, vying for their attention.

The Earl and your Uncle Gardiner are deeply engrossed in a game of chess, while Charles and Richard discuss the latest news from Parliament. Kitty hangs on the Colonel’s every word. Your father, I am sad to report, is not present. He has been cloistered in our library ever since his arrival at Pemberley, but your mother assures us that he will reemerge when the dinner bell is rung. She, after giving some last-minute instructions to Mrs. Reynolds, joins your dear aunt and mine on the sofa. All three ladies are drawn with beaming exuberance to the newest member of the Darcy family, lovingly held by his Auntie Anne. And all the while, you and I are busy greeting the neighbours and friends who have joyfully accepted our invitation for Christmas dinner. It is a very sad scene indeed!”

Elizabeth twisted round to look at him, her cheek brushing his.

“Don’t tease me, Fitzwilliam,” she whispered, her tears flowing freely now, her eyes filled with love.

“Why ever not? I've been instructed to practice these sorts of social skills, and my tutor is the cleverest tease in all of England.”

“How I love you, Fitzwilliam Darcy!”

“Do you not see, Elizabeth? The people we care for most in the world love and admire us in return. Georgiana, Richard and Anne are the family members that matter most to me, and they already adore you. The Matlocks will come round, I am sure. But even if they do not, we shall live our lives very happily without them. Now, I am not certain that your mother will ever approve of me,” he quipped, “but all I need is you to make me happy.”

“And I you!” she breathed.

“So now, Miss Elizabeth Bennet,” he said, turning to face her squarely, “will you allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you?”

END OF PART ONE

Prologue to Book Two

Posted on Saturday, 22 October 2005

Fitzwilliam Darcy’s predictions for the future did indeed come true. Though still apprehensive about Miss Bennet’s suitability, the Matlocks were not about to cut themselves off from their favourite nephew. In the end, their affection for him and the tight family bond they shared would allow for nothing less than warm acceptance. Besides, the persistent entreaties and reassurances of both Richard and Georgiana convinced them that the union might have promise.

On first meeting Miss Bennet, the Earl and Lady Matlock were immediately struck by her genuine sweetness and her warm, unassuming nature. The quiet confidence that shone through those exceptionally fine eyes did much to win them over. True, this vivacious young woman would not bring wealth or status to their family line, but Darcy lacked neither, and the Matlocks soon came to understand that Elizabeth brought something far more precious to all their lives—a spark for life and a talent for bringing people together that would benefit them immeasurably!

Without shame or hesitation, they apologized to her for their earlier skepticism and offered her not only their approval, but support. When, just a few weeks before the wedding, Lady Matlock developed a high fever and persistent cough, Elizabeth, who was in London at the time for the fitting of her wedding gown, hurried, unsolicited, to her Ladyship’s bedside.

“I know that without a sister or daughter to help care for you, you might be left entirely in the hands of the servants,” said Elizabeth on entering the bedchamber and taking Lady Matlock’s hand. “And as Georgiana is at Pemberley just now, I hope you will allow me to be of some service to you.” Needless to say, by the time Elizabeth left a week later, Lady Matlock wondered how Richard could ever find a wife who could endear herself to her more. Elizabeth would, in time, become like a daughter to her, and despite the differences in their ages, a truly close friend.

An urgent post had reached the Bennets at Cheapside where they had broken their journey for a few days before continuing on to Scotland. The post instructed them to remain in London and await their daughter’s return, while assuring them that the sudden change in plans was due to a most happy development. Both the Bennets and the Gardiners were convinced that Elizabeth had betrothed herself to Sir Robert. What a shock it was to see her arrive radiantly flushed on the arm of Fitzwilliam Darcy!

After a lengthy recital of the history of their long and troubled courtship (with the first, painful proposal omitted, of course), the young couple was able to win the approval and blessings of the entire family. Jane and Charles were particularly pleased, and while Mrs. Gardiner’s heart ached for her beloved cousin, she knew that Elizabeth’s marriage to Fitzwilliam Darcy had been destined from the start.

Mr. Darcy, mindful of having cheated the Bennets out of month’s holiday, invited them to make use of his London townhouse when he and Elizabeth traveled to Italy in the spring. He would have wished to set out on their wedding journey immediately, but with Jane so far along, Elizabeth would not hear of leaving before the child was born. And with winter fast approaching, it made sense to postpone their trip until April.

Darcy also offered his new family the use of his boxes at the opera and theatre, along with the carriage and an open invitation to dine wherever they pleased at his expense. Elizabeth entreated Georgiana to stay in town, not only to act as their guide, but as a visible reminder to her mother that she was but a guest, and not the lady of the house. It was proof of Georgiana’s love for Elizabeth that she accepted such a formidable task. And although she took it on with great trepidation, she soon found herself easily in control of the situation and happy to have the lively company of her new sisters. Never before had she had the unique experience of being the most sophisticated and worldly young lady of the party, and it gave her great joy and confidence to introduce Kitty and Mary to some of her favourite spots around town.

The wedding, though nothing grand, was a very happy event indeed as it was attended, for the most part, by those relatives and friends who truly wished the couple well. Charles had begged Elizabeth and Darcy not to invite his sisters. He was certain to have a more relaxed time of it without Caroline’s resentful remarks and constant sulking. And as Netherfield was to host the wedding breakfast as well as the out-of-town guests just weeks before the birth of their child, it was deemed a very prudent decision to eliminate any unnecessary anxiety. Lady Catherine had forbidden Mr. Collins’s attendance, and so Charlotte arrived relaxed and happy on the arm of her father. Even Sir Robert made the long journey to Hertfordshire with little Jonathan and Betsy to witness the happy event.

“Am I not to receive some credit for the joyful ending of this long and difficult courtship?” he teased the groom. “Had I not kept Elizabeth at Braemar for so long, you might…”

“Pray say no more, Sir Robert,” interrupted Darcy, raising a glass to him. “You have my heartfelt thanks for your role in bringing us together. I am in your debt, sir,” Darcy said with genuine sincerity.

“I refuse to say that the better man won,” teased Sir Robert, heartily shaking Darcy’s hand, “for had I been the first to meet her, you, my friend, would not have had a chance! That, I do assure you.”

Darcy took the playful remark good-naturedly, though he knew the fierce emotion behind it. Sir Robert had been more than gracious—stepping aside without any sign of resentment. Indeed, he tried to make Elizabeth believe that he was genuinely happy for her. He presented no obstacle, inflicted no guilt— though it was obvious that his heart was breaking. Elizabeth Bennet had come into his life at a time when he was most vulnerable, and while there were those who said that his admiration for her was largely based on gratitude and need, he alone knew the depths of his feelings for her. He would in time find another to capture his imagination and win his love, but for now, he deeply felt his loss.

The bride and groom, though blissfully happy to be finally united, hid from their guests the underlying pain they felt concerning their cousin Anne. She who had risked so much to ensure their happiness had been denied the pleasure of seeing them wed or even reading about it in the newspaper. Sadly, it was her life that would be grievously impacted by their union, her life that would suffer the consequences of her mother’s vengeance.

Lady Catherine, though distressed at the loss of her prestigious nephew’s company and his invaluable assistance in matters of business, seemed to thrive on her own bitterness. She would hold court and expound for hours on the lack of moral fibre of young people today and their abandonment of duty, loyalty and family honor. Poor Anne would be forced to endure her mother’s tirades again and again, along with whoever was her Ladyship’s captive audience at the moment. And with each outrageous monologue Anne would tunnel deeper inside the tomb she was creating inside herself.

The lovely and vibrant flower that had bloomed in Scotland was quietly withering. No longer permitted to visit the parsonage or to communicate with Charlotte in any way, she had no company her own age. Lady Catherine, having become suspicious of everything and everyone, now opened Anne’s precious correspondence and soon put an end to her daughter’s last source of happiness. And while letters from Fitzwilliam, Georgiana, Elizabeth and Richard arrived weekly…Anne saw none of them. Her only comfort came from deep within herself—in the thoughts and internal dialogues that kept her sane. It was the real world that was going mad—her own little world was safely tucked deep inside her heart and mind.

From a very early age, Anne had come to accept that she would never marry. Marriage resulted in intimacy, and intimacy resulted in the birth of children. Her fragile constitution could withstand neither, she was told. She never questioned her fate, but neither could she stop herself from dreaming. What would it be like to be loved by a man…a man who adored you and wanted to make you happy? Still, she was resigned. Where the joys of physical affection were concerned she would have to remain a dreamer. But when her thoughts turned to children, her heart swelled with hope and longing.

In her mind’s eye, Anne had always pictured herself surrounded by children who loved her—children who waited on the front steps for her arrival, vied for her attention and cried bitterly at her departure. She would be their best beloved auntie—the one who could sooth a hurt and turn tears into laughter when everyone else had failed. She would know all the best stories, eagerly play the silliest games and always, always keep her promises…and their secrets. It was she whom her cousins would trust to stay with the children when they went on holiday, and she who would be summoned when anyone was ill. Her large and loving family would give her life purpose and bless her with the pure, innocent affection of her nieces and nephews. Between her three cousins, she had hoped to be very busy indeed. Never had she imagined that her movements would be so restricted, her correspondence so censured, that she would be shut out of their lives entirely.

More than a year had now passed since they had left Braemar. Earl and Lady Matlock visited several times, trying to keep the family connection alive—and always trying to determine whether the time was right to broach the subject of reconciliation to their sister. It never was. Nevertheless, these cherished visits were Anne’s only connection with the outside world and she eagerly anticipated them. On slow and leisurely walks with her aunt she would hear news of her cousins, receive their precious letters and small, meaningful gifts that could easily be hidden. One such gift, a miniature of Fitzwilliam and Elizabeth in their wedding finery, Anne regretfully returned. If it were ever discovered, it would surely be thrown into the fire…and Anne could not allow for that possibility. She kissed the beloved faces so exquisitely portrayed and returned it to the safe keeping of her aunt. “One day I shall display it proudly,” she said with tears in her eyes, “but for now…” Her voice trailed off. Lady Matlock replaced it in her reticule and pressed Anne’s hand.

“I have some news, Anne, that unfortunately will bring you both pleasure and pain,” said Aunt Matlock on one such walk. “Elizabeth is expecting a child. We visited Pemberley just before we came to Rosings and her little secret could no longer be hidden from anyone. I know you will be happy for them...as well as for yourself. You are soon to become an aunt and I promise you that your uncle and I will do everything in our power to convince your mother to let you see them.”

It was obvious that Anne was thrilled by the news— her complexion brightened and her eyes sparkled. But her voice was soft as she shook her head and murmured, “She will never allow that, dear Aunt.”

“Do not be so discouraged, Anne. Time has a way of healing emotional wounds as well physical ones, and your mother’s heart, though still smarting from her great disappointment, will eventually mend. With patience and perseverance we, together, will make it happen.”

Anne gave her aunt a faint smile. She knew her words to be well intentioned but meaningless. Her mother’s resentment was feeding on itself and growing stronger by the day. She would never be permitted to travel to Pemberley when the child was born…or ever.

And so it was, that with the joyous anticipation of becoming an aunt, Anne resolved to take her future into her own hands and leave her ancestral home. It would not be quickly or easily done—not if she was to survive the separation with some measure of dignity and independence. She knew, of course, that she could, if she so wished, become a permanent part of the Darcy household. But that would not make her happy. To depend on the patience and good humour of anyone for the entirety of her life was simply out of the question. One could look forward to the arrival of a beloved aunt for a month or two, but an extended stay could strain the relationship, perhaps even destroy it. Though she believed that Fitzwilliam and Elizabeth would encourage her to make her home with them, she was convinced that she would eventually become an emotional burden to them. Besides, she, too, yearned for a home of her own—a place where she could do as she pleased without having to consider the preferences and needs of others. With all her riches and advantages in life, she had never had that pleasure.

Would this dream of hers be possible to achieve? A small, but beautifully furnished home in London, just a short carriage ride from shops, eating establishments and the theatre was what she envisioned. Three or four bedrooms would do—one for herself, another for her companion and two for guests. She could stroll in the park, visit the museums, and join some charitable organizations perhaps. She saw herself returning home after a month or two at Pemberley, anxious for a bit of solitude, yet filled with contentment and happy memories—her cup brimming over with the tender affection of all her family.

Her problem was financial, of course. Although she had money of her own, left to her by her father upon his death, her mother had the control of it. Having been convinced that she lacked the understanding needed to oversee such matters herself, Anne had, long ago, given over all such responsibilities to her mother. She received a small sum each month for personal items and pocket money, but in truth, had little need of it. And as she was not even permitted to go to Hunsford Village without Mrs. Jenkinson, she could not purchase anything without her mama being immediately told of it. Her meager savings would barely help her escape, let alone help her survive in the outside world.

What she needed to do, she soon realized, was to recover control of her inheritance, separate herself from her mother’s solicitors, and start life anew. Her mother would never agree to such a change, of course, opposing her in court, if need be. And Mama would surely use her fragile constitution as justification for continuing to control her assets.

If she were ever to be allowed to live on her own and control her destiny, she would first have to prove herself capable of doing so. Her challenge would be to escape Rosings unnoticed and live, undiscovered, for at least a year without any help from anyone. With such evidence of her ability to be physically and financially independent, she might stand a chance of winning her autonomy from a court of law. And there was no doubt in her mind that it would be necessary to do so! Naturally, she ran the risk of being disinherited and losing Rosings and all that went with it—but that mattered little. Although what her father had left her was a modest sum compared to the riches of Rosings, she was certain that with carefully economy she could make it last. But how was anyone to accomplish such a seemingly impossible task—especially someone like herself, who had so little experience with the outside world?

Book 2, Chapter One

Posted on Monday, 30 January 2006,

After months of anxious waiting, the opportunity presented itself rather suddenly. Lady Catherine became afflicted with a severe chest cold and was too feverish to leave her bed, just at the time that Mrs. Jenkinson was away visiting her sister. The servants, both male and female, were being run ragged by her Ladyship’s demands and had precious little time or energy to notice a change in Anne’s demeanor or activities. It was, therefore, the perfect time for her to begin to put her plan into action.

For the past few days she had spent a few hours at her mother’s bedside each morning—reading to her, listening to her complaints and doing her best to make her comfortable. Yet all the while her mind was preoccupied with the necessary preliminaries that would make her escape possible. The various letters she had written were ready to be mailed—she only needed the opportunity to go to the post unobserved—and her conversation with Mr. Calder, her mother’s solicitor, was well rehearsed. What had been lacking, till now, was a good enough excuse to leave the house on her own. Anne had never been allowed to go to Hunsford village without a companion, of course, but the situation that now presented itself thankfully made it possible.

“Mary,” said Anne to her mother’s maid as she was about to enter her mistress’s bedchamber, “James will be taking me into the village to purchase some new books to keep Mama entertained. We just finished the novel we were reading and you know that her Ladyship does not care for poetry. I shall not be gone long. Is there anything that I can get for the household while I am there? Do we have enough of the eucalyptus oil the doctor recommended?”

“Yes, Miss Anne, we have a plentiful supply. But do you think you should be going on your own, Miss? Would you like Meg to go with you? She is working on the laundry at the moment, but…”

“No, no! Truly, there is no need. James will drop me off at the booksellers, and all my other errands are just steps away. You needn’t worry. And,” said Anne, her lips curling into a mischievous grin, “I am looking forward to dropping into Hartley’s and looking for some new lace without Mrs. Jenkinson peering over my shoulder and imposing her taste on me.” Her smile broadened and she raised her brows to imply that she was sharing a most significant confidence.

Though feeling a bit uneasy, Mary knew it was not her place to further question the young lady of the house. She nodded, curtsied, and hurried to answer her Ladyship’s bell, which had been ringing all the while they had been talking.

“Oh, Mary,” said Anne, calling her back with a trusting smile, “there is no need to mention this little excursion to Mama. We don’t want her to fret unnecessarily, do we?” Again, she gave the young woman a look that needed no translation.

Having made her purchases at Bentley’s bookshop, Anne quietly left by the rear door and made her way around to post her letters. Even there she had to dissemble. These were not her correspondences, she offered, when Mr. Finesdale raised his brows; her mother had asked her to post them. It was evident that his suspicion was aroused, but he smiled kindly as he took them from her. If he noted the youthful flourish of the hand, his countenance did not betray it. A gentleman of his profession knew when discretion was called for.

Anne quickly continued on to Mr. Calder’s office at the end of the street, hoping that no one would see her enter. It would be nice to avoid having to answer the questions of curious neighbors, but she was not terribly concerned. If the need arose, she had answers well prepared.

Mr. Calder’s son, who was being groomed to take his father’s place when the elder gentleman retired, was at the front desk and very surprised to see her.

“Miss de Bourgh, how good to see you. But I hope that nothing serious has brought you here today? Is her Ladyship’s health not improving? I thought I heard that she was a little better yesterday.”

“Indeed, she is a bit stronger, Mr. Calder. Thank you for asking after her. Is your father in? I have no appointment, but need only a few minutes of his time.”

“I will let him know that you are here, Miss de Bourgh. I know he will wish to make time for you,” Reginald Calder replied as he bowed politely and retreated into the back office.

Once seated before her mother’s loyal and highly protective solicitor, Anne’s anxiety was such that she thought she might forget all that she had rehearsed for so long. His cooperation in this scheme was crucial, though hopefully, he would not understand the full impact of what he was being asked to do until she was long gone and hidden away. In an attempt to look more confident, she pulled back her shoulders, cocked her head playfully to the side and gazed intently at the gentleman before her.

“Mr. Calder,” she began, a winsome smile playing about the corners of her mouth, “it is imperative that I make you my co-conspirator—my very trustworthy accomplice in the deliciously secretive scheme that I am plotting!” She watched as Mr. Calder’s eyes widened and his face paled. The poor man was squirming uncomfortably in his chair.

“My dear Miss de Bourgh,” he began to mumble, “you know that I am always at your service, but your mother…”

“Yes, I know, Mr. Calder. You would never wish to deceive her or keep anything from her. You are a steadfast and faithful servant and that is precisely why I know I can count on you to keep my secret.”

Mr. Calder’s posture relaxed a bit as he allowed himself to settle more comfortably in his chair. Clasping his hands together on the desk before him, he gave her his full attention.

“My mother will be celebrating a rather special birthday next month and I wish to honor her with a gift that truly reflects my appreciation of her devotion to me. She has always been so good and has had to sacrifice so much of her own happiness and independence for the sake of health. I am painfully aware of how I have restricted her life.”

Mr. Calder nodded sympathetically but added, “I am sure that her Ladyship does consider her devotion to you a burden of any kind, Miss de Bourgh.”

“Yes, perhaps, Mr. Calder. But the opportunity now presents itself to me to express my appreciation and give her a much-deserved holiday. You see my aunt and uncle Fitzwilliam are planning a trip to Venice next month and I wish to make it possible for Mama to join them. I know she would never agree to go—feeling obliged to remain at home with me. But if I pay for the voyage and her accommodations ahead of time and present the entire package to her as a gift, she will not be able to refuse. I know for certain that she is truly longing to go, for I saw her countenance when my aunt spoke of it.”

“What a thoughtful and generous scheme, Miss de Bourgh. But pray, how do I fit into all of this?”

“Well, the small allowance that I draw from the monies my father left me and the pocket money my mother provides certainly will not cover such a gift. Therefore, I wish to withdraw five hundred pounds of my inheritance and use it for this purpose. Surely, my father would approve and feel that I was putting his money to good use. Of course, your role in this is vital--keeping it all secret until the happy day.”

Once again, the color drained from Mr. Calder’s face. “But…but Miss de Bourgh, I have strict instructions from your mother to let her know about every financial transaction concerning her accounts. She trusts me to follow her instructions to the letter. And despite the reason for keeping it from her, I’m afraid she may not look kindly on my having conspired with you in the removal of such a large sum.”

Anne maintained the sweetest of expressions though her heart was beating wildly. “May I remind you, Mr. Calder, that this money is mine—inherited from my dear father upon his death. I am not asking you to pillage my mother’s account. I only ask for what is rightfully mine.”

“Indeed, I do understand that, Miss de Bourgh, but as you know, your mother is the custodian of that account. It is in trust for you of course, but legally under your mother’s control due to your ill health. I’m afraid I cannot, in good conscience, remove such a sum without consulting her.”

“But that would defeat the purpose altogether!” cried Anne.

“I am sorry, Miss. But I cannot and will not go against your mother’s clear and exacting wishes.”

Anne felt her face flush with humiliation and breathed in deeply to enable her to continue. To be twenty-eight years old and the heiress of a great fortune, and to have to beg for the use of her own money was beyond humiliating. Yet she had foreseen this ugly scenario and was equally prepared for it. That not withstanding, she was truly shocked at how it unraveled her.

“Mr. Calder,” she began slowly and calmly, “your loyalty to my mother does you credit, and that is precisely why I have never envisioned any other firm holding the financial accounts of Rosings Park.”

Mr. Calder suddenly straightened—his eyes widening in nervous anticipation.

“My mother tells me that you plan to retire next year and are grooming your son to take your place. Is that not so?”

He swallowed hard and nodded.

“Well…just as your son will be filling your shoes, Mr. Calder, I will, G-d willing, be the Mistress of Rosings Park one day. I have not been blessed with the energy of some, but my doctor tells me that as long as I take my medication and follow his instructions I can expect to live a relatively long and comfortable life. My mother, of course, is still very vigorous, but she is of a certain age, sir.” Anne lowered her eyes.

“When I am the Mistress of Rosings I will feel the same need for a truly trusted solicitor and will expect him to have my best interests and wishes at heart. If I cannot persuade you to turn over a small fraction of my own inheritance to me, Mr. Calder, how can I look forward to such a close and trusting relationship with your firm in the future? I’m afraid this would taint our association forever.”

Her countenance showed no sign of anger or resentment. Indeed, she gazed at him with artless wonder, as if she had just asked him a perfectly innocent question and was simply waiting for a response. Yet her words had had their desired effect. Samuel Calder was about to have an attack of nerves.

Rosings Park had been his largest account for more than thirty years now and was, in effect, responsible for his family’s very comfortable mode of living. It was inconceivable that this major portion of his income could be snatched away by the timid and unassuming Miss de Bourgh! But what she said was all too true! Lady Catherine was getting on in years and more significantly, was becoming more and more eccentric. Since her return from Scotland many townspeople had thought her verging on the point of madness. Her temper, her increasingly outlandish demands for attention and respect made everyone wonder about her sanity. Even if Lady Catherine were to live for a long, long time, her daughter might be burdened with the responsibility of the estate sooner than later. He had to think of his son, of his own retirement and of the well being of his entire family! Attempting to regulate his breathing and the panic that was welling up in his chest, he smiled sheepishly at Anne de Bourgh.

Fitzwilliam Darcy pushed his right arm through the sleeve of his waistcoat, adjusted its collar and proceeded to pull his cuffs comfortably out from beneath the edge of his sleeves. Thus elegantly prepared to face the day he lingered yet another moment over the tantalizing form stretched out before him. The beautiful line that swelled at her hip and sloped sensuously down along her thighs still made his heart quiver. He bent to kiss her, nuzzling the nape of her neck where those exquisite little curls caressed her skin.

“Do you really want me to entice you out of this warm bed for the pleasure of roaming the shops with your aunt Gardiner, my love? Edward allowed you not four hours of sleep together last night! Perhaps you should postpone your outing,” he whispered between kisses on and about her ear.

“No, nooooooo,” she murmured sleepily. “I’ve been looking forward to this for so long. It is a rite of passage, you know—my very first real outing without Edward. If I postpone it now, it may take me another month to get up the courage to leave him with Nanny and the other servants.”

“Good G-d, Elizabeth, you finally found the perfect Nanny and even brought Mrs. Reynolds from Pemberley to keep a watchful eye on him…and still you worry about spending a few hours away from home? I hope you don’t intend to follow our son to Oxford when he goes. It would be damned embarrassing for the poor boy.”

Elizabeth turned and raised her head to meet her husband’s waiting lips. “Don’t tease me so, Fitzwilliam,” she chided. “It is not easy being a new mother—especially when almost everyone disapproves of those things that seem only natural and right to me. Nanny Henderson is wonderful in many ways, but she is far from perfect. Do you not hear her tsk, tsking every morning when we insist on letting Edward snuggle in our bed for but an hour?”

“Well, you have Doctor Morrison’s blessings and that should be enough for you, my sweet. He is both delighted and impressed that you have managed to nurse Edward these six months. He holds you in very high esteem, I dare say, and is extremely pleased with the boy’s progress. You have every reason to be proud, my love.”

Before Elizabeth could respond Darcy lowered him mouth onto hers for the deep and satisfying kiss he had been longing for. He would not allow this rather well-worn conversation to keep him from his goal. After all, he needed another kiss to help him through a stressful morning with his bankers.

Edward thrust his little fist out towards his father’s face as if startled by some surprising dream, his sweet little lips puckering and sucking in his sleep. Darcy moved from his wife’s mouth to the downy softness of his son’s head and nuzzled him. The faint scent of Elizabeth’s milk caressed his nostrils. “Lucky boy,” he whispered, rubbing his lips against his son’s hair.

“Well, if you insist on your little shopping expedition, you had best get up, Elizabeth. Unfortunately, I have no time to breakfast with you, my love, but have a lovely time and give my best to Aunt Gardiner. I shall see you late this afternoon.”

After placing another tender kiss on his wife’s brow, he swept his precious son up into his arms and delivered him to Nanny Henderson, whom he knew to be waiting rather irritably and impatiently for him in the nursery.

It was bad enough, thought Nanny Henderson, that the mistress insisted on nursing the child herself, but the way both parents spoiled him was truly shocking! What mother on earth would give up the London season to be at her infant’s beck and call? And when the Darcys did entertain—which was rather frequently now that they did not go out in the evenings— Mrs. Darcy thought nothing of excusing herself during dinner to tend to the child’s needs. Nanny often wondered why she had been hired at all! But perhaps now that Edward had begun to eat solid food, some things would change. Why, had not the mistress informed her that Edward would be left to her care today while she spent several hours with Mrs. Gardiner? Humph! Well, she would believe it only when the great, miraculous event had actually come to pass!

“And are you quite sure that we are not sending you out of your way, Anne-Marie?” asked Winifred Tilson, tying the ribbons of Anne’s bonnet and then searching round for her gloves.

“It might be a rather heavy package to carry all the way home from the fish market. I ordered three pounds of carp, you know,” added her twin sister, Eugenie. Both elderly ladies fussed and fluttered around their new and most beloved tenant, smoothing her hair under her bonnet and brushing lint from her pelisse.

Anne laughed to herself. With all her servants and paid companions at Rosings Park, she had never felt so loved and cared for. And all this affection came from two of the most terrifying old biddies she had ever chanced to meet!

Anne had been surprised to see the same advertisement for a room to let month after month in the London Gazette. Obviously, there had to be something wrong with the arrangement or the people leasing it, for no one seemed to want to live there. Yet the neighborhood suited her, being neither a place so fine that her mother would think of looking for her there, nor so poor as to be dangerous or unpleasant. Her beloved cousins would have no reason to frequent such a place, making a chance meeting very unlikely. And so it was with great trepidation that she had sent off her letter so many months ago from Hunsford village asking for further details as to the accommodations.

For the next two weeks Anne nervously waited for the post to be delivered each morning so that she could retrieve her letter without anyone else being aware of it. When it finally came, she understood only too well why the room was still vacant. The list of restrictions pertaining to its lease was long indeed.

*No food other than fruit or biscuits could be brought into the house—though the making of tea in the tenant’s own fireplace would be permissible;

*No visitors of either sex would be allowed or pets of any kind (not even a canary);

*The tenant would not have the use of any of the common rooms in the house and under no circumstances would the tenant touch the pianoforte;

*The tenant would be responsible for paying the house servants separately for the cleaning of her room;

*The tenant could leave and enter only through the servants’ entrance and would be in by eight o’clock in the evening when the house would be securely locked.”

It was perfect!

Well, the food restrictions were outrageous, of course. Imagine having to eat every meal of every day at one eating establishment or another! But oddly enough the other restrictions would make it easy for her to live a safe and quiet life, undisturbed and unobserved. Why, in a normal situation, among normal people, it would appear odd for her not to have any friends or relations at all. People would inquire into her past, forcing her to lie and to entangle herself in dangerous ways. No, this was an almost ideal situation for her—a quiet cave in which to hide for the year. She would have to go by a different name, of course—but one that she would respond to. How comical it would be to introduce oneself as Martha Dobbs and then never turn your head when you were called. Anne-Marie Burton! That would do. Just similar enough to remind her of whom she really was.

Of course the most difficult part of all would be to keep herself hidden from her family when she longed so very much to see them! How she would love the comforting companionship of Fitzwilliam, Georgiana and Elizabeth. And Edward…little Edward! What would she give to hold him in her arms? But that would not be possible for now—not if she was to win her independence from her mother.

More than anything, this would be the test of her fortitude. If she could prove to a court of law that she was well enough and capable enough to survive on her own—without the financial help or emotional support of friends or relations, she might succeed in convincing a magistrate that her mother’s restrictive hold on her and her finances were unnecessary and therefore, unlawful. She was of age, and she was of means*—if only she had access to the fifteen thousand pounds her father had left her.

Oddly enough, the biggest threat to her plan would more than likely come from a most benevolent source--her dear cousin Darcy. He would never allow her to live in this way if he knew her whereabouts and her situation. He would pressure her with every conceivable argument, insisting that he could easily secure her freedom, that he could arrange for it all without her having to suffer any hardship at all. But Anne knew that her mother would put up a noble fight to protect her own interests—especially her honor—and that Darcy’s involvement would only make her more ruthless and determined. She would not release her control over her only child and the finances that would enable her to be independent without an ugly, public display in the courts. And that, Anne was determined to prevent, if she could. She would not subject the names of Darcy, Fitzwilliam and de Bourgh to gossip and ridicule in the local papers. Besides, if she allowed Fitzwilliam to help her, she would only be trading one kind of dependence for another. That was not what she had envisioned for herself. She needed and wanted a home of her own. If she were ever to shed the yoke of being poor little Anne de Bourgh, she would have to do it by the power of her own strength and resolve.

Through much introspection Anne had come to understand that her mother had always used the excuse of her delicate health to make her more of an invalid than she really was. How awful to think that one’s own mother could receive some sort of perverse pleasure from keeping you sickly! Yet, of late, that was precisely what she had been thinking. It was a way of keeping her tied to her mother forever. Mama, it would seem, needed her company far more than she needed hers. The gilded tower her Ladyship had built for herself at Rosings was a lonely one. And now that she had disowned half her family, her situation was dire indeed.

Being her own mistress for the very first time, Anne now looked to herself for the answers to the questions that had been nagging her for years. Would a more demanding regimen really weaken her heart? Would eating citrus fruits destroy her delicate stomach? Anne began to experiment little by little. She found that as she lengthened her walk each day, even by only a minute or two, she gained strength and stamina. Her diet, now less restricted, did not play havoc with her digestion.

How many things had she been denied for the sake of her “delicate health”? She remembered the tears she had shed when her mother had flatly refused to allow her to learn to play the pianoforte. Really now, how much strength would it have taken to sit and practice for a half hour each day? Perhaps it was her Ladyship’s fear that a child of hers would not excel that prompted her to deny the lessons? A de Bourgh would have to be a true proficient or nothing at all.

All these things considered, Anne knew that it would be best for her to avoid London altogether. But London was precisely where she wanted to be. Here she would find innumerable sources of pleasure and entertainment. And as she would have to keep to her own company, the museums, libraries and charitable organizations of the town would provide her the opportunity to be among people, to be intellectually stimulated and amused and…best of all, to be kept busy.

* I ask the forgiveness of Mrs. Gaskell. I simply couldn't resist!

Book Two, Chapter Two

Posted on Sunday, 5 February 2006,

“It will be no hardship at all to pick up the fish for dinner, I assure you,” said Anne, checking her reticule for a handkerchief and a few extra shillings. “And I promise to be home by three so that I can help to prepare the meal. As long as Eleanor continues to scrub the pots, I will continue to be an eager student in the kitchen.”

“We will expect you at three then and hold off all preparations until you arrive. Have a good time with the children, dear, but don’t let them wear you out,” warned Winifred, pressing her hand.

Anne lifted her face to the sun as she stepped out of the modest little place she now called home. What a luxury it was to come and go as you please— to make your own plans for the day! She had never been so happy!

She chuckled to herself as she thought of how many things had changed since her arrival at the Tilson home. Those intimidating old ladies had frightened her half to death at first. Their cold, condescending manner and endless restrictions should have made her feel at home, for they reminded her only too well of her mother. But it had saddened her indeed to find that she had traded one haughty and judgmental warden for two. Thankfully, these first impressions soon gave way to compassionate understanding as Anne began to see the Tilson sisters for who they really were.

Winifred and Eugenie Tilson were born into a noble, landed family from Sussex and had lived a rather privileged life until the death of their father. Having always been so devoted to each other, they had found it difficult to make room in their lives and hearts for husbands, although their great beauty and lively dispositions had brought them many suitors. This unfortunate misjudgment only became apparent when their father’s estate was entailed away and they were left with the London townhouse and an adequate, but hardly substantial, yearly income.

As the years went by their fashionable neighborhood lost its elegance, along with many of its wealthier residents. The sisters were not insensitive to the neighborhood’s decline but could not afford to move. They did their best to stretch their resources, but eventually had to let many of their servants go, including their cook. They could certainly learn to make their way around a kitchen, and cooking was the least strenuous of all the household chores. Eventually, they were forced to admit that they could not survive without a tenant. They were cognizant of the need to let some undeserving creature reside in their beautiful guestroom, but were certainly not prepared to share their home with her! That, they would make absolutely clear. Oh, to be in such reduced circumstances was bitter indeed!

Anne’s first week with the Tilsons had been truly unnerving. She found herself on tenterhooks all the time, slipping quietly in and out of the house so as not draw any attention to herself. She often stayed out much longer than she really wished to for fear of returning to those haughty glares and stern expressions. And although she did her best to draw a smile from those tightly pressed lips, the gates had been bolted and curtains drawn closed on those unyielding countenances.

Then one evening when she was attempting to slip up to her room unnoticed, she was summoned rather severely by Miss Winifred from the sitting room. Reluctantly, she made her way back down the stairs and towards the open door, wondering what she had done to arouse such disapproval. She remembered quite clearly the injunction of not entering any room other than her own and stood waiting to be invited in by her landlords.

“Well, for goodness sake come closer, Miss Burton. Don’t just stand there gawking!” said Miss Winifred in a brusque and irritated tone.

Anne advanced and stood before her, doing her best to appear unperturbed, which, of course, she was not.

“Now then, we have need of your young eyes,” said Miss Winifred matter-of-factly.

“We received a letter from a cousin traveling in Austria which we would like you to read. It must have been hidden under some other papers this morning for we only discovered it now and cannot make it out in the candle light.”

She handed Anne the letter and sat back in her chair with an expression of certain entitlement, waiting for her to begin.

“May I put my book down on this table?” asked Anne politely. She still wore her pelisse and bonnet, but would not dare ask permission to shed them before performing her duty.

Miss Eugenie nodded, looking with great curiosity at the spine of the book as it was laid down before her.

Anne cleared her throat and started to read. The sisters listened attentively.

When she was through, she handed it back to Miss Winifred, who demanded that she read it a second time.

“Of course,” murmured Anne, setting herself to the task once more.

“She has a lovely reading voice, does she not, sister?” said Eugenie. “Such lively expression beautifully paired with a most soothing tone.”

“Indeed! You read very well, Miss Burton,” said Miss Winifred, eyeing the book. “And I must say that I do not find your voice at all grating.”

Just what Mama would say, chuckled Anne to herself before replying. “Thank you, Miss Tilson. Thank you very much. Now, if you have not further need of me, I shall bid you ladies good night.” She was about to retrieve her book when Miss Eugenie snatched it from the table.

“What sort of reading do you enjoy, Miss Burton?” asked she, squinting at the title on the spine.

Anne colored a bit. “Well, I’m not at all a great reader of serious literature, I’m afraid. I prefer novels…especially those with a little romance in them.”

Eugenie Tilson’s eyes lit up, an eager and artless smile graced her face. “Is this one of those romantic novels then, Miss Burton? Is it a good story? Oh, it has been so long since Winifred and I have been able to read in the evenings, and it is such great entertainment, don’t you think? Would you tell us what the story is about?”

“I am sure that Miss Burton has better things to do than to stand here in her pelisse and bonnet and recount the plot of her novel for us, Eugenie. She has been nice enough to read our letter and we shouldn’t detain her any longer.”

“Well, actually…I don’t mind,” said Anne. “That is, I wouldn’t mind sharing the story with you or even reading it to you if you would wish it. But I was looking forward to a hot cup of tea. If you would like me to come back down when I’ve finished, I’d be happy to…”

“Oh, but you must have read a good part of it by now. We couldn’t ask you to start it over from the beginning,” said Winifred in such a hopeful tone that Anne almost burst out laughing.

“On the contrary, Miss Tilson, I have only read the first chapter and could stand to refresh my memory. There are so many complex characters. So…”

“So, why don’t you go upstairs and put away your things and I’ll put on tea for all of us!” said Miss Eugenie hugging the book to her chest. “I believe we still have a few of those praline biscuits that Winifred baked last week. What a delightful evening it shall be!”

And so it began. With their austere defenses down, the Tilson twins proved to be the dearest, sweetest and most affectionate of friends. The relationship progressed to the point that when Miss Eugenie discovered Anne-Marie’s long-held wish to learn to play the pianoforte, she offered to teach her straight away. The three of them spent most evenings together reading, playing and singing, or playing cards—and chatting, always chatting. Anne now ate all her meals in the dining room, practiced the piano whenever she wished and found herself feeling very much at home.

Elizabeth bathed, arranged her hair and had her breakfast sent up to the nursery so that she could enjoy her son’s playfulness during this wakeful part of the morning. Nanny Henderson really was wonderful with him—there was no reason to worry. Although she treated adults a bit gruffly, Nanny’s natural instincts with children were genuinely gentle and caring.

When the tray arrived, Elizabeth found that she had very little appetite. Perhaps it was the eggs; they did not smell quite right to her. So after forcing herself to finish her tea, she nursed her son once more before dressing and venturing out of the house.

As she stepped outside, she tilted her head toward the sun and let out a contented sigh. What a luxury is was to come and go without the burden of Edward’s perambulator and Nanny Henderson fussing about. Her morning plans were her own today, and though she felt a little guilty admitting it, it felt good to walk out so unencumbered. Perhaps Fitzwilliam had been right. She should have done this long ago. But before Edward’s hunger could be satisfied by something other than her milk, she was very reluctant to leave the house for more than an hour or two. Her memory of Jonathan’s frenzied cries had embedded itself into her very soul. Surely, her experiences at Braemar House had a great deal to do with her attitudes towards child rearing. Edward had never been malnourished the way poor little Jonathan had been, but nevertheless… Well, she had taken the plunge now and had promised to spend the morning and early afternoon with her aunt, shopping and lunching in perfect freedom.

She had, long before, gone back to her old routine of walking in the park for an hour each morning and had actually gone out to shop at Cranston’s several times—having James drive her there and back within the span of an hour or two. But spending an entire morning or afternoon away from Edward had been unthinkable then. Elizabeth knew she had stayed so close to her son for her own sake, as much as his.

She entered the carriage and informed James of their destination. When just fifteen minutes later they had arrived there, she opened the exquisite mother-of-pearl timepiece that Fitzwilliam had recently given her and saw, to her surprise, that she was far too early for her appointment. In her anxiety to be on time—for when dealing with Edward, everything took twice as long as it normally did—she had miscalculated and now had a good half hour to wait. Well, she would make the most of it and take herself for a stroll, she decided. The shops along this street were small and inviting, nothing like the grand salons she was usually expected to frequent. That had been precisely why Aunt Gardiner had suggested that they come to this lively, middle-class neighborhood to look for the simple, every day things Elizabeth needed.

She wandered up and down the street that was their agreed rendezvous, then turned the corner and made her way slowly down a narrowing lane. Stopping at a window filled with intricately woven coverlets and shawls, she suddenly felt a little lightheaded.

“I should have had some toast with my tea,” she murmured to herself, bringing one hand to her head and stretching the other out to steady herself on a street lamp. Regaining her balance, she looked about for a place to sit and noticed a small café directly across the street. Now if she could only get there without losing her balance again.

The fine weather had encouraged Anne to make a day of it. She would go to the orphanage and help out there for a while, then take herself to that darling little sweet shop on Crestwood Lane for a leisurely lunch before going on to the museum. If she tired earlier she would take a hansom cab home. But lately she had managed to stay quite energetic (well, energetic for her) until two or three in the afternoon. She had to pace herself, of course, doing only what felt comfortable at the orphanage, and resting frequently on a bench or at a café before continuing on to her next destination.

She had been pleasantly surprised by the willingness of the staff of the London Infant Home to accept her modest offering of help. Anne had explained her limitations, and had said that, despite them, she hoped there would be something that she could do to help with the children. Indeed, the mistress in charge had eagerly accepted her help, encouraging her to come and go at her own convenience, never insisting on a formal commitment of any kind. She was simply happy to have another pair of hands and eyes several hours a week.

Anne had now fallen into the comfortable routine of spending two hours there each morning. She would read to the little ones who were not yet old enough for formal schooling and would often help some of the older girls with their needlework. And sometimes, when she was extremely fortunate, she would be asked to help in the feeding of those children yet unable to feed themselves. She often came away from this happy experience with gruel or pudding in her hair—the result of some enthusiastic little tyke trying to wrestle the spoon away from her. But she never minded; she saw it as good training for her life as a most-beloved aunt.

Today she had managed to come away clean and presentable from the orphanage dining room, with the added joy of having been able to get a cupful of broth into a feverish child with a painful throat. The poor little thing had not been able to swallow anything for days. What satisfaction there was to be gained from such a small achievement! It put a bounce in Anne’s step.

Her favorite neighborhood sweet shop served light fare for lunch as well as all the pastries, iced treats and chocolates one could wish for. She had first ventured in because the establishment was naturally frequented by nannies and their charges—providing her with grand entertainment as she ate. Of course, she could now indulge in all the wonderful culinary treasures that had always been denied her. She could forgive her mother many things, but keeping her so rigidly away from sweets had been deprivation indeed! Of course, when one didn’t know what one was missing, the pain wasn’t half so bad.

She always chose a small table in the back from where she could observe the scene, and by now, the proprietor knew her preference. He welcomed her amiably and led her to a table that seemed to wait for her arrival. Today’s clientele were a lively group, among them a little girl of about five who was celebrating her birthday with siblings and friends, and a two-year-old boy who seemed far more interested in his nanny’s pastry than his own chocolate pudding. Anne laughed as she watched him try to reach for the tempting confection while his nanny nudged him towards his own dish.

Her eyes then landed on what seemed to be an oddity in this Mecca for children and their caretakers. A young man sat alone at a small table not far from her, and Anne had a clear view of him from where she sat— an even better one in the large mirror on the opposite wall. He fascinated her. He was thin—much too thin—with thick, dark hair that he routinely raked back with his fingers as it fell onto his brow. He was cleanly shaven, but his fair skin showed the faint shadow of the dark growth beneath. The chiseled lines of his face though sharp, gave him a surprisingly gentle countenance. But most striking of all were his eyes. Though the lightest of blue, their intensity pierced the very newspaper he was reading.

He had a modest lunch before him—nothing more than a meager breakfast, really—a soft-boiled egg and a few pieces of toast. And as his attention stayed riveted on the article he was reading while he continued to eat, the egg that had been intended for his mouth slipped unnoticed off his spoon. Anne could not help but chuckle at the bewildered look on his face when the spoon turned up empty. He was beautiful. His long thin fingers, sinewy hands— all knuckles and bone— were delicate but strong. She found herself staring at them.

As she observed him, she wondered if everyone else could see what she now saw. This was a gentleman, born and bred. His meticulously clean and well shaped nails, the elegant cut of his coat—though certainly a size too large—were only a complement to the way he carried himself, even in a sitting position. His head, confidently and squarely anchored above his shoulders and his chin, tilted in subtle self-assurance, gave him a refined air—though his hair needed cutting and his clothes had definitely seen better days. The cuffs were slightly frayed…the elbows shiny with wear.

Had he suddenly lost his fortune? Did he now find himself in such reduced circumstances as a result of family troubles like her own—or had his business or investments failed? Her heart went out to him in more ways than one and she found herself suddenly despondent. She ached for what could never be. She had never felt this sort of self-pity before, never experienced the burning envy of those who could hope to marry and stand beside such a man. Oh, why on earth was she torturing herself so? Having been resigned for so long, she had never allowed this sort of pain to enter her heart. Why was she doing this to herself now? Perhaps her mother had been right after all. She had no business tasting sweets.

Continued in Next Section