Jump to new as of January 18, 2004

Part 1A

Posted on Sunday, 21 December 2003, at 11:19 p.m.

An event most unexpected and shocking befell the ladies of Rosings one day in the spring of 18__, Mrs. Jenkinson tendered resignation of her post in order to marry. That a widow of small means with a quiet, well-bred disposition was able to procure the regard of an independent gentleman was not the point of contention. The source of Lady Catherine's vexation was the trouble was looking yet another companion for her daughter Anne. Mrs. Jenkinson was indispensable; all the minute details for Miss Anne's comfort were provided with the least trouble to her mother. Lady Catherine utilized all powers of persuasion to retain Mrs. Jenkinson, from offering a pittance of a raise to threats of leaving the woman with no favourable recommendation. All efforts, however, were to no avail. It was much to Mrs. Jenkinson's credit that the greatest of all benefits were soon to be hers. Being the mistress of a modest house in Buckinghamshire was more advantageous than living in subservience in Rosings Park.

"What say you to this, Anne?" was Lady's Catherine's question when Mrs. Jenkinson had gone. "Your lady's companion marries, most peculiar of her."

"Quite so."

"It is inconceivable to me how she even managed the affair. A lady of her age with a younger man, I highly disapprove of such a match!"

"She is above seven and thirty."

"Of what age is the groom?"

"Two and thirty, I believe."

Lady Catherine was aghast. "He is not much older than you, Anne. What is Mrs. Jenkinson about? When you are to marry, Anne, someone of your age would be appropriate or perhaps a trifle older."

Anne agreed if only to dissuade her mother from continuing on the present subject. It was a matter exhausted in its suppositions and caused Anne some anxiety, had she dared say so.

The marriage of her cousin Fitzwilliam Darcy to the former Miss Bennet was another reason for tension. Her mother could not but speak of it for a half-year's time and the birth of Fitzwilliam Bennet Darcy lengthened the discourse even further.

"She has given Darcy an heir, has she? It is imperative that we invite them to Kent then, for she has proven her use to the family."

Had love been the reason for the disturbance of Anne's mind, her troubles would be perfectly understood, but it was the unfulfilled expectation of an alliance that had disappointed her. Her mother's favourite wish had been spoken of so plainly at Rosings Park that Anne had comprehended that an engagement, in eventuality, would come to pass. With slight romantic inclinations in her youth, Anne held to herself the notion that Darcy would like her. To her mortification, he had not. Anne could never meet her cousin in mind nor in conversation. Darcy and their Matlock relations were better friends. They all of them met in society whilst she remained in Kent. In truth, Anne was never presented in court due to her weak constitution, a frailty that transpired in the face of opposition. The lovelier, accomplished ladies intimidated her; to stand up in a ball or converse with the ton was an ordeal that she had rather miss than not. To be presented to the Queen, we must not even speak of it! After the notion of her cousin favouring her with affection had dissipated, Anne took comfort in that Mr. Darcy's familial sense of honour and obligation would hinder him from bestowing his hand to any other young lady. Years had passed to further encourage this thought and with those years came Darcy to Kent, without any indication of singling her out in any manner, his noble indifference marked in his every conversation with her. Even in this circumstance, Darcy's union with herself had been a belief harboured amongst those in Rosings.

"Would you like a shawl, Miss de Bourgh?"

"I am not cold at all. Did Mrs. Jenkinson not tell you that I do not rise from bed once I have retired? There is no need for a shawl."

The last had been said in a low voice and very crossly. Mrs. Biddley, the housekeeper of Rosings herself had waited on her much to her dissatisfaction. In contrast to another housekeeper under the employ of a certain gentleman from Derbyshire, this servant had heard almost nothing but irate words from the future mistress of the house. Hopes were high in search of the next companion for a lady on the throes of spinsterhood.

Anne spent all her days in the company of her mother. There were occasions when she went out in her little phaeton, but those were far and between. Lady Catherine would allow her to see some feuding inhabitants of the village, but Anne found that she had nothing to say to them. They were all petty, ignorant and indelicate. Her mother was very fond of these villagers and did her utmost to know their affairs. Among the neighbouring estates, there were very few of whom Anne could meet with equanimity. The young ladies she found loud and lively, too eager to exhibit their prowess on the piano-forte, on the harp or some such. Those of her age or even younger had departed in marriage and when they visited, any conversation was stilted for there was overflow of talk on one side and lack of it on the other. Some of the gentlemen speculated about Anne, but with their independent fortunes, all of them agreed that none of them would have wife so dull and a mother-in-law so active. Lady Catherine's own acquaintances either looked on her with their pity or in private, did their best to procure her a dancing partner for an evening. Their opinions never reached Anne. By Lady Catherine's advice she had learned that frivolous learning need not be dealt with, for of course an heiress with noble kindred could not be in want of offers. Amongst her relations Anne infrequently corresponded: Lady Victoria Fitzwilliam and Miss Mary Elise de Bourgh wrote her less and less. Anne cared not, her cousin on the paternal side was engaged and she had no desire to hear any more of her kind of felicity.

Anne exerted herself one morning to pass the Hunsford Parsonage with the intention of bestowing some honour on the inhabitants of the house with her company. She seldom entered the parson's abode, Mr. and Mrs. Collins were tolerable enough, but they were constant visitors in her mother's house that Anne had no further desire to improve the acquaintance. She was met with great civility by the mistress of the house and even more so by Mr. Collins. His gentleman-like compliments and regards to Lady Catherine were most welcome to her. Her mother's benevolence and largesse were well-known and Anne looked upon such patronage with pride. The short call would have been pleasant; Mrs. Collins was a practical woman of diplomacy, who never alluded to any subject that may give discomfort or anxiety to any one. For this, Anne was most grateful and though she could not express her own satisfaction on this score, she returned all of Mrs. Collins' efforts to converse with almost the same energy. Towards the husband she could not be so kind. His connection to their family, by way of his cousin, was mentioned so frequently and with pompous humility that Anne could not, at times, make him out. That Mr. Collins was proud of his relation's marriage, she was of no doubt, but his obsequious manner made Anne think that his mind did not comprehend the necessity of dignity. It occurred to Anne, as it did on previous occasions that the former Miss Bennet had nothing in common with her cousin and she was most unfortunate as having to claim him as such. Anne parted with them, dearly hoping that her mother would not extend them an invitation within the next fortnight.

Easter approached and with it the anticipated arrival of Mr. and Mrs. Fitzwilliam Darcy. It would be the first of visits after the marriage of the said couple. Nephew and aunt were on visiting terms once again after Lady Catherine had condescendingly called on Mrs. Darcy at Pemberley. It was a circumstance that was met with approbation by some and regret by others. For the latter, it would have been a favourite subject of discourse had the dispute continued and even more so, for the most bitter-minded, had Miss de Bourgh succumbed to a broken heart. Gossip had reigned for some time, much to the family's chagrin, for the identity of the new Mrs. Darcy was soon known. The frequent expense in pursuit of entertainment was beyond the income of Mr. Collins and any of his visitors were remembered, indeed, if one had married the nephew of the neighbourhood's patroness. Though at times compounded by exaggeration, there were few who did not say that they had been witness to the courtship. Rambles in the park, a peculiar call, a look, a word were all speculated upon. It was beyond the understanding of the intelligent throng to realize that, in fact, another one of Lady Catherine's nephews had given the very same attentions to the lady.

Lady Catherine was most particular in her instructions regarding her daughter's behaviour. "No symptom of displeasure should ever be on your face nor any words of it pass from your lips, Anne. Her mother's connections are very low, but she is Mrs. Darcy now. Much as I had wished to address you in the same, nothing can be done but be civil to her. Much as I abhor my nephew's choice, Darcy is still the son of my sister, the late Lady Anne and the connection must be preserved. Their son would be nothing less than delightful, I am sure, considering that Mrs. Darcy has employed a competent nurse under my sister-in-law's guidance."

Her daughter's dress was also mentioned by way of, "Wear those new gowns, Anne, I am certain Mrs. Darcy could not equal you in taste and countenance, though her complexion and eyes have been spoken of as superior by some."

Anne only nodded her acquiescence. Her mother told her of the arrangements and forms of amusement that Rosings would provide for the Darcys, the numerous dinner-parties and even an excursion or possibly two. The daughter was astonished at her mother's spirited application for the coming event, but Anne's only curiosity with the impending arrival was how the former Miss Bennet's deportment would be as a visiting relation to Rosings Park, as opposed to being a visiting acquaintance at the Parsonage. To her, there was nothing to be said or done with having been slighted in favour of another who had neither fortune nor connections. She was resigned to the match, as well as she could be. It was not in her power nor her disposition to affront a personage such as that of a Mrs. Darcy.

Chapter 1B

Posted on Saturday, 27 December 2003, at 5:41 p.m.

On the morning of the Darcys' approaching arrival, Anne indulged herself on another ride in her phaeton. With very little to do in the house, she thought it most appropriate that she undertake some of the exercise that the apothecary had so strenuously recommended her. It was not under many minutes that she could make her leave for her maid was so very slow and Lady Catherine quite fussy. All of Mrs. Jenkinson's former cares were undertaken by servant and mother, both with very little success. Anne herself had no scrupulous requirements for a lady's companion. In fact, she had some doubts as to whether there was an actual need for one. Lady Catherine had always considered it beneath a single lady of her station, no matter what age or condition, to be without an older, genteel woman. Anne herself had never been asked as to her wishes, the mistress of the house undertook all.

"You will visit the family Smith, Anne. I pity the poor things, their mother so ill and the father! I have no kind words for him. Tell them that I shall visit them myself as soon as I am able and see to their roof."

Much as Anne disliked the task, she could only agree to her mother's request. She had so shocked herself, on a previous outing, by wondering what her mother's reaction would have been, had she uttered any protestation. Anne had immediately banished the thought; it was not done to even think it. Lady Catherine knew best, her late father had told her and his memory could only strengthen his opinion. How different Rosings had been when Sir Lewis de Bourgh had been alive! The husband was there to counter or soften the wife's decided opinions and between he and his only child there had been true affection. Little had the Baronet known that with his passing, the disposition that had so attracted him in his choice of wife would thereafter overpower his own daughter. Anne missed him considerably and at times felt that all her inheritance was not worth his loss.

"Are you unwell, Miss de Bourgh?" The maid inquired anxiously, "Lady Catherine would be most displeased if we had gone when we should have stayed."

"Do stop your worrying, Miller. You heard her yourself, we are to visit a family in the village and Lady Catherine is not be gainsaid."

The maid took this opening to be her opportunity to talk. Her mistress seldom entered into conversation with her, but neither was Miss de Bourgh opposed to listening. It was a routine, as much as these drives were, that the sound of the carriage and Miller's voice coincided as to give Anne some comfort, though she knew not why.

"This visit seems to be causing such an uproar in the house, ma'am. Then again, so it does every time any relations come to one's home. Not seeing another member of the family for months on end, I can understand how that is. The villagers and the servants hereabouts are most keen on seeing your cousin and his wife," Seeing as there was no effect on the countenance of her mistress, she continued, "Miss Bennet was lovely, I dare say. I saw her every now and then when she was at the parsonage and thought that I had never seen one of the gentry with such happy manners."

Anne kept her silence, but in her mind she surprised herself by agreeing with her maid's sentiments. Miss Elizabeth Bennet's stay in Hunsford had been an interesting period for her. She had never met one so young and yet so wholly unintimidated by Lady Catherine. Anne knew that the lady's father was a gentleman with a decent estate, even her mother could not discredit that, but she had not even considered that one so witty and intelligent could be of interest not only to her cousin the Colonel, but even to the ever-distant cousin Darcy. They had all been acquainted to the arts and allurements of ladies whose only purpose in their short lives were to expose them selves in the drawing room and acquire a spouse. Apparently, these displays were not enough for some, a thinking mind was actually necessary in meeting a life-long partner. Who would have thought it?

Amidst her absence of mind and after some miles Anne had not noticed that her own hold on her horses' reigns, soft as it was already, had loosened significantly. The scream in her ear rattled her so and she found that the horses had stopped, very awkwardly on the side of the small road.

"See what you've done, Miller," Anne admonished her companion irritably, "all your prattle and I was so distracted. What will my mother say?"

Without any instruction forthcoming on what was to be done, the maid left her mistress clinging to the useless reigns. After a moment or to, the woman addressed her lady by reporting, "We seem to have steered ourselves into a muddy ditch, ma'am."

"A ditch! A muddy ditch in spring time, what have these tenants been about? Lady Catherine will surely hear of such negligence." No negligence on her part entered Anne's conscience. She was only affected by her present predicament, inopportune as it was.

Miller volunteered, hesitatingly, "We are not within Lady Catherine's property, Miss de Bourgh."

"What are you saying? How could we not be?" The sound of horses' hooves stopped her and gave her some hope, in the form of a possible rescue. Alas, it was only a small curricle, fashionably fitted up and giving any audience the impression of more form than utility. The livery was familiar to her, most likely from one of the estates that they visited, but the gentleman who alighted was not. Anne was taken aback upon his appearance. She had lived long enough in the world to know what he was - a fop, a veritable fop! She had seen enough of them in London and had been told to avoid them as much as possible or at the very least, reply to them merely in a monosyllable. This one was tall, dressed in the height of fashion and inexperienced as she was in reading a gentleman's expression, she could not tell whether his mouth was turned in kindness or in amusement.

"What have we here?" The gentleman, exclaimed, "A lady in distress! I have not had the opportunity to be of service in this manner, but I shall render my best." This last was spoken to more to him self and he thus addressed Anne, "Mr.Grantley at your service, madam."

Anne could not speak on this occasion even when spoken to. She only noticed that he was smiling so openly and with such perfect, even teeth that she endeavoured to return it as well as she can.

"The lady does not speak. I take no offence in that. A stranger could be a prince or a pauper and you have no opinion which I may be." Grantley approached to examine the wayward wheel and found it in tact, but caught firmly in the dirt. He and his servant spoke to each other for quite some time as to how the carriage was to be pulled out. To Anne, it seemed like a long time and it was beyond her comprehension why the gentleman was turning a simple discussion into something so obscure.

"By your leave," he said, finally, "my man and I will move your pretty little equipage away from this rubbish. What say you to this?"

"You are most kind, sir, "was the only reply she could think of. After the words had been said, Anne found her self colouring to a deep crimson. Mr. Grantley was looking at her with a bemused expression. "Madam, in order for me to facilitate the continuance of your journey, I must request that you allow me to hand you down."

Embarrassed and irritated by such veiled impertinence, Anne stood by her maid and let the gentlemen do their work. She took on a look of indifference and pretended not to notice that Mr. Grantley was becoming spotted with mud and he seemed to be wielding more force than he was wont to do. Anne pitied him for she realized whoever he was; the man was not at all accustomed to pulling a whole phaeton with his bare hands.

"A most unfortunate circumstance is at hand, madam," Anne looked her concern this time as the gentleman continued, "I am sorry to disappoint you in saying that my man and I will more than likely break your wheel if we are to force it out. It has been most disobliging."

"What must be done then?" Anne was alive to the difficulty of her situation. She had no wish to be further indebted to this man, though she was already, but she knew very well that she had been away for some time and her mother would be upset if she were late on such a day as this.

Grantley proposed that his man would leave to summon for more servants. It was done straightaway and with little participation on Anne's part. She found that wait she must do, under the scrutiny of such a man and next to a dirty, mud-spattered, worthless phaeton. The gentleman exerted some effort in trying to draw her into conversation with him, but like the lady's maid before him, he was reduced to commence in monologue.

Mr. Grantley revealed that he was from town, newly arrived for a visit with his uncle. If that were so, Anne concluded that he was Sir John Grantley's nephew, the heir to the baronet's debt-diminished estate. Their line was unblemished in its gentility and that family could lay claim to noble relations of their own, but due to the foolishness of Sir John's daughters, from whom the Baronet could scarcely deprive of anything, Mr. Grantley's inheritance was to come to very little. Only the prudence of his maternal side had saved him, the income of a clear 1,500 a month and a house in London was to be his whilst Bucknall Hall was to be let, in accordance with an agreement to save the said estate from creditors. Anne was privy to such information only due to her mother's perseverance in knowing the families of all the eligible gentlemen in their vicinity.

Her new companion talked on, about books, his travels, news from town and even the latest fashions among the ladies. Miss de Bourgh was struck by the fact that though he had failed in so far as disengaging the wheel of her carriage, he was doing all to divert her and she could only be pleased. He was not as ridiculous as most of the dandy men. She thus gave her first share of the conversation,

"I quite dislike London. I do not care for the place at all."

"Indeed, I know of some who have never taken a liking to living there, even for a season. Have you a great love for the country then?"

"I confess that I have never thought of it." She doubted herself being capable of having a great love of anything.

"What is there to think about? The freshness of air and food, the twittering of the birds, the sun warm in the daytime and the moon clear in the night time sky."

"Lord Byron, you are not, sir."

Grantley laughed. "At last, a sense of humour! What do you wish me to say about the country then?"

"You have my permission to say that the country is quiet, yet dull and its inhabitants have very little to say."

Grantley looked at her thoughtfully, "Most people, whether in the country or in town, have very little to say because their experiences are too limited. Either that, or theirs is not a life in which their own opinions have been attended to," He noticed her expression and lightened the mood, "I do know what you will say once you have returned home, when your maid has attended you and this encounter is but a faint memory: I met a fop, of all things, on a road in Kent and he was as clownish as a fop can be!"

Anne found herself smiling at this self-depreciation, but did not think him at all clownish. His manner of dress was not to her taste, but he was gentleman-like just the same. Not one at Rosings would care who she met, along any road and perhaps there would be some interest, if only to chastise her in any imaginary indiscretion.

With some boldness uncharacteristic of her self she asked, "What would the gentleman say once he has arrived at his uncle's seat?"

"There are many who would say that life in the country is most predictable, but I dare say, from this moment on, there is always something new and unexpectedly agreeable to discover in its confines."

Anne could not think of a reply and was glad of an interruption. Instead of any servants from Bucknall as was expected, a carriage from Rosings Park came. Lady Catherine had sent it, in the possibility that her daughter had been met with some accident. Miss de Bourgh was informed that the mistress was most distressed, the Fitzwilliam Darcys had arrived with no cousin to attend them.

Anne turned to her rescuer to give her hurried thanks, but it was the gentleman who first spoke,

"You must be daughter to Lady Catherine de Bourgh if you are cousin to Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy," Mr. Grantley said, in parting, "'Tis odd that we have never been introduced heretofore. This will not be our final meeting then."

"Where have you been Anne? I am most seriously displeased by such behaviour. You have been completely devoid of any sense of punctuality and your irresponsibility is contemptible! This is not the time to speak of it, however, your cousins have retired to dress for dinner and you will do the same."

Anne only listened; any rational explanation would be completely futile in the face of her mother's ire. Once in her rooms and in front of a looking glass, she so astonished her self in seeing that there were tears in her eyes. Away from the servant's prying looks, she endeavoured to compose her features and let her self be washed and dressed.

"I am pleased to make your acquaintance once again, Miss de Bourgh."

"You are always welcome at Rosings Park, Mrs. Darcy." Gratifying as the words may have been to the gracious who expect the very same of others, with all her heart Anne meant what she had said. Upon the entrance of the guests in residence, Anne had first looked upon her cousin. He was almost the same as he ever was, haughty and reserved. The only difference that Anne could discern was that he smiled whenever his eyes rested on his wife and this occurred often. Anne's assessment of his wife reverted to the impartiality of previous meetings. Her mother did say, at one time, that the young lady was pretty and genteel and Anne had never found her otherwise. As a married woman, Mrs. Darcy retained the brightness and the unshakable ability to be at ease in every situation of her maidenhood. In addition, she had acquired a quiet dignity that bespoke her new rank. The quality of her gown was better, Anne observed, and the Darcy jewels were worn this evening, but with such refined elegance and graceful effortlessness that she could find nothing to criticize. As to beauty, Mrs. Darcy's complexion was as flawless as ever and her eyes, with their intelligence and unfailing lustre, were finer than most. Miss de Bourgh felt a swell of envy, not due to the husband, but in the realization that this lady, younger than she, had moved on in life with less material prospects to assist her.

Lady Catherine was proud in observing that Anne was all composure in her exchange with Mrs. Darcy. In as much as she had met Darcy's decision regarding Miss Bennet with extreme anger and indignation, it was a further aggravation that it was none other than her daughter that was affected by it. She admitted, only to herself, that the affliction would have been felt much less had there been no personal interest involved where Darcy was concerned.

For Darcy's part, the contrast between the two ladies could not have been more palpable. He recalled that it was in this very room that he had made his decision. It had not entered his mind at that moment that he would be rejected in his proposals, but never before had he accepted the belief that a gentleman in his position would have the prerogative of choice, until then. He almost smiled to himself at that feeling of panic, panic under the suspicion that Col. Fitzwilliam would explain himself to Elizabeth. Imprudent as it would have been for his cousin, it was a probable conjecture at that time and Darcy was happier than ever that she was his.

"Miss Darcy sends her kindest regards, Lady Catherine."

After giving her thanks on that score, Lady Catherine proceeded to interview her new niece on her housekeeping at Pemberley and in the Darcy town house. From fish to fowl, from scullery maid to housekeeper, Mrs. Darcy's china and her table settings, none of these were beneath her ladyship's enquiry. Elizabeth found Lady Catherine more impertinent that before and given their new connection, was more than liberal in her opinions. Lady Catherine's inspection was most exhaustive with regards to Elizabeth's family: the Bingleys' income from their estate, how often the Bennets were in Derbyshire, why Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner visited so often, etc. Elizabeth maintained her forbearance, warding off the blunt attacks with humour and candour, but never yielding to the ridiculous censure. Darcy could not be as tolerant; Lady Catherine's conduct recalled to him all the rationale of having previously breached their connection and with some regret wished that he had preserved it. It was for his wife's sake that any resentment was revealed only in his countenance and not in any of his determined replies to the rudeness of the aunt.

The time came for young Fitzwilliam Bennet Darcy to be presented to his relations. Anne thought him a delightful child. He was almost in every feature a Darcy: taller than this sixteenth month with dark hair and dark eyes. The only exception that could be credited to the mother was the eyes, large with thick lashes and with a clever look to them. Lady Catherine expressed her approbation at the Darcys's success and predicted that more sons were to come, though judging from the number of ladies in Mrs. Darcy's family, her wish could only come to naught.

"I am very pleased that Lady Jane Fitzwilliam has given her advice with regard to employing a nursemaid, Mrs. Darcy. I would have recommended a very capable one, I am sure, had I a son myself."

"Thank you, ma'am. Any nurse of any potential daughter of mine will have the benefit of your counsel. Reliable servants are difficult to find."

"My experience in the matter is more recent than you think. Mrs. Jenkinson, if you have not heard, has been most uncooperative."

"I was under the impression that Mrs. Jenkinson was a treasured companion. In what manner has she caused pain?" Mrs. Darcy asked.

"Mrs. Jenkinson has left us to marry a gentleman she allegedly esteems."

"That is most unfortunate for Anne," Darcy commented, whilst his wife hid her laughter, "Georgiana's companion is still in my employ." His wife took this opportunity to bid her son good bye for the moment since the child was to return to the nursery. Wills, as his parents fondly called him, bade his father to accompany him and Darcy obliged the child if only to go as far as the staircase.

"Darcy is very much taken with his son, is he?"

"The child has our attention, Lady Catherine. He has taken to listening to his father when he reads aloud in the evenings and I am with him at different times during the day to peruse his favourite books."

"Mrs. Darcy, a child's learning is not necessary at such a young age. I am certain that Mr. Darcy will employ the best masters and tutors and the boy thereafter will enter one of the universities for a gentleman's education.

"Mr. Darcy, no doubt, will be responsible for our son's education, but a child's mind evolves so quickly and learns in a manner unfixed than when he is older. Wills does find enjoyment in being read to."

"I was read to, in the very same way as a child," Darcy said, "it is never too early or too late for anyone to develop their own interests."

"That may be true, but children are unregulated in their thoughts and opinions," Their aunt told them, "parents must always see to it those interests are appropriate."

"Young Darcy's interests are always our concern," Darcy said firmly.

The dinner announcement spared her ladyship from further exercising her thoughts on the subject. Dinner commenced without much incident. Elizabeth found that despite her success as a hostess in Derbyshire and in London, conversation was at ebb. It was dull to a certain degree. Miss de Bourgh barely spoke and when she did it was only to agree to something her mother said. Her husband was more reticent than ever.

Anne herself was secretly forming a conversation with Elizabeth in her mind, but the effort was too much and she feared her mother's eye. Elizabeth thus had no choice but to utilize a drawing room method that she found a little tiresome, conversing about any acquaintances in common. Unknown to her, she had discovered Lady Catherine's weakness. Her ladyship did take delight in hearing of her friends and expressed her fervent desire of visiting during the remainder of the season. The only part in the talk that Anne deigned to attend to was as follows,

"Sir John Grantley's nephew has come to Kent. Did you hear anything of it, Mrs. Darcy?"

Elizabeth answered in the affirmative; "Mr. Grantley was indeed introduced to us and should be in the country at this time."

"The nephew is the most unfortunate heir that there ever was seen. He will inherit a non-existent estate wrought by his self-indulgent cousins. I have told Anne to never be in the company of those girls."

"I have never been, mama," relieved to find something to say, unimportant as it may have been.

Lady Catherine opinioned, "I have not heard of anything against the young nephew himself, except that his attire is usually singular."

"He is gentleman-like, agreeable as any."

Elizabeth was inclined to indulge herself in teasing Darcy about his flaming recommendation, but she would put it off until they were alone. She had serious doubts as to whether the ladies could comprehend her brand of humour or more shockingly, that his Rosings relations would discover that Darcy himself was capable of some laughter.

"This is a form of punishment, Elizabeth, I am certain of it," Darcy pronounced.

Elizabeth looked about her with some dismay. She had only seen her dressing room upon her arrival and like her husband, was beholding the room given her for the first time. She had been informed that the furnishings were all new, purchased especially with her future visits in mind. It was of a style similar to the rest of the floors at Rosings, splendid, but with less real elegance. Grateful as she was for the generosity of one who, only less than two years ago had disparaged her so, Elizabeth thought that the excessive pink and floral was calculated to repulse her husband his visits. For the sake of propriety and custom, she and Darcy kept two rooms, but unknown to their hostess, only stayed in one.

"Forgive me, what is that offensive odour?"

"Lavender water, in excess. Should we stay in your room, you think?" Elizabeth suggested, doubtfully.

"I think not. It will be of no inconvenience to anyone. We shall move from one room to the other, as we please."

"Your aunt's servants will consider us troublesome."

"My dear Lizzy, I can scarce believe that you will not seize this instance to tease. Those servants, so high on your list of concerns, will still be cleaning one bedroom every morning and from my knowledge of them, will venture to divulge all to Lady Catherine."

Elizabeth looked uncertain until he told her, "If you so desire, we shall slumber in my bedroom. Let us not dwell on our sleeping arrangements. We shall settle it soon enough."

"Did the evening meet your expectations?"

"Not at all. I thought I would meet some opposition, some challenge if you will."

"My relations will find other occasions to try your patience, of that I am certain."

"As do mine," Elizabeth replied, "Your cousin looked well did she not?"

"As well as she possibly could."

"You are being harsh, Fitzwilliam. Surely she has attributes, all her own. It is my opinion that she looks so very cross for lack of company and such loneliness can be provoking."

Darcy smiled, "My compliments to your compassionate nature."

"Before my compassionate nature succumbs to your flattery I must ask you this, where lies yours? Anne de Bourgh is your aunt's daughter, have you never thought of her situation?"

"Lest you forget, Elizabeth, you may claim Lady Catherine as your aunt as well. Anne's situation has only entered my mind in exactly the same number as any allusion to my fate, in relation to her own, was mentioned. You know of what I speak, any concern regarding her welfare would have been indelicately misconstrued."

"I concede that point, both of them in fact, but I shall continue in saying that her situation at present could bear some improvement."

"If Anne so desired any improvement, she may do so by way of reading."

Elizabeth could only laugh, "Have you no faith in the lady's mind?"

"It is not my lack of faith in Anne's mind, Lizzy, but it is in her use of it. You judge me harsh, but I say only the truth. Away from Lady Catherine, it is possible that she is capable of some independent thought, but unless she is given proper influence my cousin is merely an echo of my aunt."

"From what you say, may I conclude that you concur with me Jump to new as of December 31, 2003

that Anne is need of new company?"

"I see your design; you wish to invite her to come with us, either to London or Bath." Darcy smiled down at her, "She has never been a companion to Georgiana, and do you think she will be to you? Jane, Bingley and all our other acquaintances will be in town, you will have enough company. I am one of the company, most importantly."

"I sense some disapprobation on your part so I will not take pains to persuade you," Elizabeth said, thoughtfully, "No, I shall leave it for another day."

"For your kind consideration, I am eternally grateful. We have already accepted their invitation, we are in Kent, must we discuss them in our very rooms?"

"Charming as you are now, may I propose that we call on Charlotte and Mr. Collins in the morning?"

"To bed, Mrs. Darcy."

Chapter 1C

Posted on Saturday, 10 January 2004, at 3:08 a.m.

Anne had been ill the whole morning, but by chance, had overheard the identity of their guests that evening. With some anxiety and great difficulty she had managed to pursued her mother that she was well enough to leave her rooms. She thus exerted herself, without much thought as to why she did, to ensuring that she was present.

It was fortune that expectations were never high for her contribution to any of the conversations. As a result, Anne was at liberty to observe what she could, at what was transpiring in her mother's drawing room. Mr. Grantley's figure, upon his entrance, was the first that had excited her attention. He was unrecognizable in the beginning for his manner of dress, though more lively than the other gentlemen, was subdued to such a degree that no one would have described him as a fop of the ton. With some interest Anne remembered the fine mouth and was further fascinated by Grantley's aquiline nose, fine physique and his easy, friendly manner. Mr. Grantley, without any indelicacy or mention of their previous meeting, smiled at her when the customary salutations were being made. It was after many minutes that she could pry her eyes away and properly address Sir John Grantley and his elder daughter, Miss Alicia Grantley. The younger Grantley daughter had lately married. The baronet was a pleasant, engaging gentleman who had always been kind to her. Lady Catherine always invited him to Rosings when he was in the country and through these means Anne simply accepted him. Miss Grantley was instrumental in sinking her father's estate, but what Lady Catherine did not know was that she had a reputation of what might be called unbecoming of a genteel young woman. She had, furthermore, the honour of being an intimate friend of Miss Caroline Bingley, sister-in-law to Mrs. Darcy's sister. Unlike Miss Bingley, however, Miss Grantley had never been a guest of the Darcys and she applied her self this evening to ingratiating herself to Mrs. Darcy.

"We meet but rarely in London, Mrs. Darcy."

"That is true Miss Grantley," Elizabeth remarked, "although I would assume that the engagements there have rendered your activities very eventful."

"The balls in town are a delight, but I dare say that one is always wishing for furthering other acquaintances." Miss Grantley seized that moment to inquire, "Will you be returning there? I had intended to call on you."

"I cannot say for certain, our plans are unfixed as of late."

The discourse went on in such a manner, but Miss Grantley was never discouraged. It was a circumstance that Mrs. Darcy found herself in the midst of more and more in her position and parried the lady's friendly, overt advances in her usual sweet, arch manner. While his wife was preoccupied so enjoyably, Darcy contented himself with watching her and enduring his aunt's conversation.

During the course of the evening Anne found herself in the general vicinity of the Darcys and Mr. Grantley. She was following what they were speaking of, but had scarce the courage to join.

"May I inquire Mrs. Darcy, are you a horsewoman? Most ladies are adept at the reins."

Elizabeth laughed, "I was not one of your skilled ladies and I am afraid that I am still not. I control my horses very ill that I imagine they quail in fear every time I go round our park."

"Mrs. Darcy is steadily improving." Mr Darcy interposed, smiling fondly at her.

"Do you prefer a phaeton, madam, or a laundalette?"

"I alternate between one or the other, my skills have not progressed to the point of discernment," Elizabeth then smiled at Anne, "Miss De Bourgh prefers the phaeton, I believe."

Anne was alarmed at the turn of the conversation and could not meet Mr. Grantley's eye. She nodded her assent. Anne was conscious of a heightened awareness with regard to Mr. Grantley, as never before. She noticed the light, soft hair on his forehead, the way his lashes were of a darker colour and the stark contrast of his smooth cheek and the struggling hair on his chin. She blushed as she noticed that his hands were of a greater size than her own. His breeches looked lovely.

After dinner, Mrs. Darcy sat at the piano-forte with her husband attending her. Anne looked upon the couple with complacency. It dawned upon her that she had never seen her cousin with such a look of diffused happiness on his face. With that came the realization that a man with Darcy's temperament would never have suited her. She had it on good authority that Darcy's wealth, by way of an inheritance from a deceased godfather and some successful investments, had nearly multiplied his income three fold. It was a handsome sum, no doubt, but she could feel no regret. Should she ever meet her partner in life, Anne wished that he would be someone- congenial.

Mrs. Darcy had managed to enliven the party by way of some Scottish airs and there was some talk of dancing amongst their small party. Anne found her hand being gallantly requested by Sir John Grantley and it gratified her, though she felt much more when the nephew stood up with her.

There was kindness in Mr. Grantley and he did his utmost to draw Anne into conversing more. He never intimidated her nor was he condescending of her opinions. He listened and his responses were all that were cheerful and honest.

"You were raised in Rosings Park all your life, Miss de Bourgh?"

"Yes, I was. I spent very little time in Matlock, my uncle's seat and in Pemberley, my Cousin Darcy's estate in Derbyshire."

"I myself grew up in Buckinghamshire at Ingleham. It was my maternal grandfather's seat, gone to a cousin ten years my senior. My parents were all that were good and I recall my childhood with fond memories, although there were moments of solitude and dullness as the sole child in our household."

Anne smiled at this, "I understand, but I cannot quite imagine you being dull. As an only child my self, I did what I could. To this very day I read a little, do some embroidery and ride out, as you know. I have unfortunately been unable to learn to play and sing since I have not the ear for music." Anne continued softly, "There were also times when I was ill and my parents were afraid for me."

"Ah, yes. The perils of only children! I sustained a shallow cut on my knee one day in my youth and my dear mother was wringing her hands with anxiety. It was one mundane injury or another and yet my mother always reacted in the like manner."

"Were you glad to leave for school?"

"My response to that would be a yes and a no, madam. I missed my parents dearly and there were occasions when I had hoped they could come to my rescue over some decision to be made. Alas, I had to fend for myself in such circumstances and thereby garnered my independence."

"There is advantage then, you think, in children leaving the home? All of my cousins did, at one time or the other, but they all had siblings and," Anne paused, in fear of divulging too much, but resolved to carry on, "their parents were less protective."

"Fear not on that score, Miss De Bourgh, had I been a daughter I am certain that my own parents would have thought, felt and acted similarly. Those with children deem it proper that they live in propriety and safety, do they not?"

Anne could only agree and he continued, "I realized that at some point my parents would pass on, as they have already and much earlier than I anticipated. To survive in this world on my own, nay to live with whatever I have been blessed with, that makes me content." Grantley discreetly indicated Mrs. Darcy, "With regards to the situation of the ladies, if you will allow me to take your cousin's wife as an example. Regardless of the size of her father's estate and her dowry, she is typical of most genteel women. Educated at home, has probably travelled some in her maidenhood, lived in the confines of family and friends and yet she has managed to develop her own kind of independence. Her choice of husband says as much, I have seldom seen any couple so complementary and yet so alike.

"Pardon me, but was it not Mr. Darcy's own choice to wed her?"

"It was her choice to accept him. The prudent motive is not the centre of that marriage, I dare say. May I speak plainly? One felt affection for the other and the other followed though I know not who first submitted to love. They do not bear that resigned tolerance that I have heard spoken of in other alliances. I would thank the gods if I should be so happy."

Anne's mind became full of him and the rest of the evening passed tranquilly enough for her. She admired him and never before had it entered her mind, that if she were ever to be decisive about her own future, a gentleman of Mr. Grantley's kind would be a good match for her. His countenance and disposition all pleased her, he was independent and though his rank and fortune were less than hers, his family had been an intimate acquaintance of the De Bourghs before her birth. It was a situation that she could not imagine Lady Catherine would disapprove of. Anne feared, however, that should her mother find some cause to censure, she would have to invoke her right to make her preference for she was of age years before. Anne so disliked the thought of offending her mother.

A fortnight had passed since the Darcys' arrival in Kent. The couple were walking round the park after receiving the Collinses at Rosings and it was an occasion that drew the two to retrace their steps similar to the ones they had taken on another memorable visit previously. Their son was running ahead, being chased by two servants.

"You did not know then the pleasure, though unconsciously given, I felt when walking with you thus."

"I had underestimated you, I must concede. I am glad that those sensations did not at all diminish under my reproofs."

"Indeed they were not," Said he, "they were strengthened, as you know."

Elizabeth lightened the mood by saying, "It was odd to me, as you may recall my mentioning before, that you found it necessary to turn back and walk with me. However, how did you manage to encounter me at those opportune moments? What calculations or stratagems did you employ?"

"Stratagems! There was none of that, Elizabeth. I merely waited," he them interposed, "Perhaps you were the one awaiting my arrival."

Elizabeth laughed, "My dear, you have made me vulnerable to your own manner of teasing. I can hardly comprehend when this began."

"I have developed some of your fondness for ridicule, I dare say."

"How odd it is that I would never have thought us having mutual qualities!" Elizabeth cried, "You were more perceptive than I on that score."

Darcy said, "More and more I recognized that your liveliness was indubitably opposite my temperament, but you were disposed to gravity and silence as well."

"As I still am! I almost retreated into ill humour after calling at the parsonage. Charlotte is a dear friend, but Mr. Collins is most aggravating. His allusions to the union of olive branches are quite presumptuous."

"I share the feeling," her husband told her, "but mine was of a different kind. I thought it repulsive had you married the clergyman."

"Oh! You need not remind me. Mr. Collins himself takes credit for our present happiness. You are not feeling any pangs of jealousy, are you?"

"Not at all," Darcy said smilingly, "and yet I have the advantage of hearing of your first proposal after our wedding day. Col. Fitzwilliam's attentions to you elicited more of my curiosity."

"I did perceive then that you thought I would be staying in Rosings on my next visit. Little did I know that you meant I was to come with you."

"To see and meet with you in Matlock and as a guest in Pemberley would have been beyond my capabilities."

Elizabeth smiled up at him and drew closer. "I cannot imagine being anywhere else but here with you, Fitzwilliam."

Darcy looked at her with his intense, steadfast gaze, "Two years have past and I am, as always, overwhelmed that you love me."

A moment, so tender would have transpired, dear readers, had it not been for the sound of an approaching carriage. They espied Anne's phaeton driving slowly with the lone occupant inside, on its way to the house. The two watched as it disappeared onwards towards an avenue of trees and into the drive.

"'Tis singular of my cousin to be out alone and this is not the first that I have observed it."

"Given my habit of walking alone I do not consider it unusual for her to be without a companion."

Darcy told her, "The other ladies in my family do take short walks by themselves under favourable conditions within their respective parks, but Anne is never allowed to."

"I have noticed a subtle change in her. Miss de Bourgh is with such heightened colour and bright eyes upon her return from her excursions."

"Heightened colour and bright eyes? Is the apothecary at hand? Perhaps she is afflicted with the fever."

"Mr. Darcy, surely you jest. It is my turn to beg you to be serious; I meant to say that I think her in love."

"Mr. Grantley, I presume, is the object in this case?"

"I know of no other, sir."

"I see no objection to Grantley, if the feeling is indeed reciprocated. I loathe to be the source of any rumour, however, in that we need not involve ourselves."

An audible sigh escaped Elizabeth's lips, "Though my curiosity is very much alive to the possible romance, I cannot but agree with you. Typically, perhaps, I will retain you as my confidante is any observations and you may express your thoughts on the subject with the highest degree of secrecy between us. What say you?"

"You are apt to accept no opposition when you are determined and I shall make no attempt to."

"Do you mean to imply, sir, that no interference shall be expected from you?"

"Certainly, Elizabeth. I will reiterate that I see no hindrance, at this time, with regards to any marriage between Mr. Grantley and Miss de Bourgh," Darcy replied, "however, if I were he I would dispense with a valet altogether. His own has rendered him no assistance."

Elizabeth suppressed her laughter, "I love you dearly, Fitzwilliam, but you are utterly incorrigible in your sportive manner today. Whatever shall I do?"

"I beg your pardon, Elizabeth?"

In their earlier days, she would have thought him affronted by any saucy speech from her, but she now knew otherwise. "I was saying sir, that you are hopeless today."

"I did comprehend that piece, but I meant another."

Elizabeth moved a little closer and asked, quite simply, "Was it your wife not knowing what to do?"

"That, and the other, Mrs. Darcy."

"I love you dearly, Fitzwilliam."

"I cannot hear you very well, unfortunately, as these peacocks are making quite a noise."

Elizabeth smiled and acquiesced to the unspoken request. She drew nearer, closer than propriety would have it as she could feel his breath against the top of her forehead. Darcy had leaned down, as if he had not really heard her say again, "I love you, Fitzwilliam."

"I love you, my dearest, loveliest Elizabeth." The words were familiar as was his touch, but the ease was all the more delicious. She raised her eyes to look at him and their lips thus met for a sweet, luscious kiss.

One evening finds the couple in the sanctuary of the library, a room that neither of the Rosings ladies seemed to visit often. For all of Lady Catherine's attentiveness to details, the contents of the room itself was, to two people who pay heed to their own collection, a sadly neglected one. No new purchases seemed to have been done since the passing of Sir Lewis de Bourgh and Elizabeth was resigned to reading an oft-repeated volume that she her self had brought from their town house.

"Have you news from the Bingleys?"

"I have received a missive from Bingley," Darcy answered, "you may read it if you like, unless you wish to wait for another from Mrs. Bingley."

"I confess that I am in no humour to decipher one of his letters this evening, though I have no doubt his account is an enthusiastic one." Elizabeth then said, "I did send a letter to Georgiana yesterday so I will be expecting a reply from her in time."

"You find it dull here in Rosings, do you not?"

"Not at all, my dear, but coming here from London has quite elevated my spirits. I like the peace that this visit has given us." As an afterthought she added, "I never thought I would say that in describing a stay at Lady Catherine's home."

Darcy only smiled. A knock on the library door was heard and he bid the intruder to come in, "Enter." It was a slightly hesitant Miss de Bourgh who entered. Without waiting for anyone to speak, she seated herself. With her usual pleasing graciousness, Elizabeth started to converse whilst Darcy with his usual indifference, only spoke to his cousin when necessary. Mrs. Darcy was still of the conviction that this young lady was much affected. There was a palpable alteration in her appearance; the glow did not make Anne handsome, but it made her almost cheerful. She smiled more, it seemed, and Elizabeth noted that more attention was being paid to Miss de Bourgh's toilette.

Miss de Bourgh owned that sleep would not come to her. Lady Catherine was rested for the night and late though it was after supper, she had none to do. She lapsed into silence after this and Elizabeth, a little tired, returned to her reading. They were engaged in such a manner for a quarter of an hour when a noise bid them all to look out the window. The moon was full and although it cast some light upon the lawn, there was no one to be seen. They were all about to draw back when the sound of guitar strumming and a strong, clear voice pervaded the air,

"Fitzwilliam, is that not the most romantic thing? A serenade!"

Anne was in tears after this rendition. If not for the Darcys' presence, she would have gladly removed herself and gone outside the house to meet him. Only years of practised restraint and natural diffidence held her back.

There was no more scepticism between the Darcys regarding Miss Anne de Bourgh's affliction. Elizabeth could not help but be touched by such an expressive form of ones regard and esteem. She, whose own path to marriage had been unusual found this alternative manner of courtship most interesting. Darcy, on the other hand, had some doubts as to the gentleman's mode of exposing himself, but given the ladies' reaction, admitted to him self that perhaps men made love in different ways and most especially, to different types of ladies. The identity of the lover was, without question, Mr. Grantley and his object, Miss Anne de Bourgh.

The couple was alarmed the next morning to find their cousin most unbecomingly transformed. Anne, unbeknownst to many and even to herself, had a tendency to be mirthful when she was happy. It did not make her any more talkative than usual but when she did speak, there was drunken glee and triumph in her voice. Elizabeth was excessively diverted.

"Did you sleep well, Anne?"

"Most excellently, mama!"

"That is good to hear, I had thought you despondent."

"Who could be, at a time such as this?"

"Our planned excursion will soon come to fruition. As soon as Mrs. Dappling has completed her purchases, we can set the date."

"We may set the date at any time, mama. The sooner, the better, I dare say."

Lady Catherine looked uncertain at her daughter's unsettling behaviour, but thankfully did not allude to it. She continued, "I had the oddest of dreams during the night."

"Was it pure ecstasy?"

Lady Catherine continued, "I heard singing, of all things! It was impossible for the performer to be Mrs. Darcy for this one was a man."

"It could not have been Cousin Darcy."

"Indeed it was not. Did you not hear me say that it was merely a dream?"

"I did, mama, but there are occasions when dreams and reality are difficult to distinguish."

"I have never heard of such nonsense."

Elizabeth skilfully steered them into safety by regaling them with anecdotes of the travelling that they had been doing since their son was born. While the others were thus occupied, Anne was left to her own thoughts. He loved her! She had not known that she was capable of being valuable to someone else or that another person would be dear her. There was a part of her that bore guilt for this new feeling, but she consciously felt that she somehow deserved some happiness. She supposed that Mr. Grantley would propose in time or possibly write her a letter. Anne honestly was at a loss on how to deal and wondered privately if Mrs. Darcy would be of help. It did not come to mind that for her, soliciting the assistance of a lady that was not her mother was almost as astonishing as the serenade itself.

No report of the previous evening's events reached Lady Catherine. Her relations certainly did not breathe a word and as a result, neither did her ladyship's loyal servants. Anne was left in all anticipation of what the future would bring.

Anne was summoned that very same day into her mother's sitting room. Her cousins were present as well. Darcy, who was used to his aunt's pronouncements with regards to the most trivial, mundane matters, was already thinking of his plans with his family away from Kent. One more week would have to pass until their departure and he and his wife were already looking forward to it.

"I have no compunction to announce amongst family of a most important event about to take place." All eyes turned to Anne and she could feel wonder, anticipation, anxiety and joy all at that instance. Lady Catherine proudly announced, "I have received an eligible offer of marriage for my dear daughter Anne. The gentleman's situation is not equal to Anne's, but his family has been friends with the family de Bourgh since the early days of Sir Lewis de Bourgh. His fortune will be sufficiently enhanced by Anne's, his connections impeccable and the family ancestry is unblemished in its gentility. I leave it to you, Anne, to accept him, but I must stress that I highly approve of him."

"His character is exemplary, I suppose?"

"I have never heard of any form of censure from anyone and none have passed my lips, sir."

To receive a marriage proposal was a blessing to Anne. After the anxiety of expecting one from a cousin and not having received any from any other gentleman, the suspense of finally receiving an offer for her hand rendered her exuberant. For marriage to happen to her, so unexpectedly when she had thought hope was almost gone was a comfort to her vanity and character. Further inducements were Grantley's features and disposition which were pleasing to Anne. Most importantly, she cared for him; theirs was not to be a mere alliance, but a relationship. The power to accept was hers and her intention was to be betrothed to the man she esteemed.

Darcy, however, queried, "What are the gentleman's future prospects, madam?"

Anne was almost cross at Darcy's line of questioning. She was certain that her cousin had a very good idea of Mr. Grantley's fortune. It dawned upon her how uncomfortable and troubling it must have been for Darcy to be confronted by the former Miss Elizabeth Bennet's own lack of fortune and connections. She did not notice the look of the bewilderment across Mrs. Darcy's countenance as she beheld her husband. Lady Catherine was about to respond, but Mr. Darcy had pressed, "Is there not a baronetcy in his future, aunt?"

"There is none for it is already his own."

"Aunt, which gentleman do you mean?"

"Where have you been, nephew? The gentleman that I am referring to is Sir John Grantley."

* "Loving You" by Ric Segreto