Chapter Sixty-Two
P ersuaded by Hannah, Lady Anne decided to speak to Fitzwilliam one last time before resigning herself to moving to far-off Cumberland. She tracked him down, finally, at the stables.
“Son,” she began.
“Not now, Mother; I am sending out riders to find Elizabeth.” He did not turn around.
“I want to help.”
He turned to face her then; he gazed at her levelly. “I think I have had about as much of your help as I can tolerate.”
“Please, may we not discuss this elsewhere?” She glanced over at the stableboys.
“No, we may not.” Turning away from her, he said, “Roberts, has anyone searched the area north of Lambton? I know we thought she must have gone south, but we must be thorough.”
She gave up, then, and made her way back to the house. She stood, stiffly, in the entryway, determined to catch him on his way back in. Mrs. Reynolds found her there.
“Lady Anne, may I help you back to your room?”
Lady Anne had never heard such a cold tone from the housekeeper she had known for decades. “No need, Mrs. Reynolds.”
“Very well.” The housekeeper curtsied and turned to leave.
“Mrs. Reynolds.”
Mrs. Reynolds stopped but did not turn around. “Yes, Lady Anne?”
It was Mrs. Reynolds’ gelid demeanor that finally brought home to Lady Anne the enormity of her error. How had she allowed her own self-importance, her fear for her position, to bring the family to this pass? Her son unwilling to speak with her, desperate to know that his wife was safe! Her daughter, caught between mother and brother! And now, Mrs. Reynolds, a woman she had known since she had first come to Pemberley as a bride, would not so much as look at her! Her face crumpled, and she put her face in her hands, murmuring, “I have made a dreadful mistake.”
Mrs. Reynolds then turned around and looked at her former mistress. There was pity in her eyes. “You have, my lady, yes.”
“I hope you will forgive me.” Lady Anne faced Mrs. Reynolds, pleading in her eyes and voice.
“I am not the injured party. Now, if you will excuse me.” Another quick curtsey.
“I did injure you, though you did not know it. I told Mrs. Darcy that you would send a lady’s maid for her.”
Mrs. Reynolds understood immediately; she inhaled sharply. “Ah! It was you who sent Abby to her! I wondered how Abby had landed such a position.”
“Yes, that was my doing; I knew Abby would tell me what I believed I needed to know.”
“So that is what Mrs. Darcy meant,” Mrs. Reynolds mused, shaking her head. “She thought she could trust me, but then I had sent Abby to her – or so she thought. Oh, Lady Anne!”
“I know, it was quite dreadful of me, and I can only pray that you will forgive me.”
“Whatever shall we do?”
“I know not; my son will not so much as look at me.”
“They are in love, you know. It is not the marriage that you and your Mr. Darcy had, if you will forgive the familiarity, my lady.”
“So he may never forgive me for hurting her.” Lady Anne’s tone was bleak, and tears leaked down her cheeks.
Mrs. Reynolds was silent.
***
Lady Anne finally managed to corner her son in his study late in the afternoon. He looked up; seeing her in the doorway, he frowned, sighed heavily, and returned to his deskwork.
“Fitzwilliam, I am truly, truly sorry. I have been completely in the wrong from the very beginning.”
He looked up. The expression of distaste on his face sunk her heart in her chest. “On that one thing we can agree. Now, is there anything else, or will you continue to prepare for your imminent departure?”
“Yes, there is one other thing. It is no excuse, I know, but it is an explanation. I tried to tell you at Rosings, but I think you did not understand me.”
“I am not much interested in your explanation.”
“I do not blame you, but I proffer it nonetheless. Fitzwilliam, the only worthwhile thing I have ever been in my life is the mistress of Pemberley. I am the daughter of an earl, yes, but the younger daughter, easily passed over and ignored. My brother, Henry, and my older sister, Catherine, had far stronger personalities, as you may imagine. When your father offered for me, I was determined to become the best mistress of Pemberley I could possibly be. And then your father died, and that was hard, as we were very fond of one another, but I was still myself, still the mistress of the greatest estate in Derbyshire. And then, unexpectedly, here comes a green country girl, and she is to take my place, my seat, my rooms.” She fell silent, tears coursing down her cheeks.
“You have told me your reasoning, such as it was; now let me tell you how all this felt to Elizabeth. You and my Aunt Catherine attempted a compromise with Cousin Anne; I need not provide any details, as you were a conspirator in that debacle. Then it happened again in Meryton, just as Elizabeth and I were coming to know one another.”
“A compromise! In Meryton? But who?”
“Bingley’s younger sister. She found me alone in the library, tore her bodice and screamed.”
“Oh, that dreadful woman! Thank the good Lord you did not marry her!”
“Yes, and the only reason I was not forced into that marriage is that Elizabeth agreed to tell everyone that we were already betrothed.”
Lady Anne’s mouth opened but no sound came out.
“Elizabeth was hesitant because she felt we did not know one another well enough, but she took a chance on me in order to save me from a truly horrible union. And then, when she arrived here, far from her loving family and everything familiar, was she greeted with kindness, with respect? No! She was greeted coldly, she was treated as an unwanted interloper! But despite this, she soldiered on, trying to do what was expected of her.”
Lady Anne whispered, “I did not know; I thought she had somehow enticed you at Rosings, trapped you, and that is why you did not marry Anne.”
“Trapped me? No, it was I who trapped her , begging her to save me from Caroline Bingley. Mother, I understand – or, at least, I am trying to understand – what being mistress of the estate has meant to you. But had you been more welcoming, might the two of you not found some middle ground? I think she would have been grateful for you to have served as her mentor, her teacher. Her father’s estate is not one-tenth the size of Pemberley; I do not doubt that she would have welcomed your support with open arms, had you been capable of offering that support.”
Then an odd expression crossed his face and he stopped speaking.
“Fitzwilliam?”
He groaned and said, “Frankly, some of this may be my own fault, as I told her to step into her new role quickly and firmly, which is exactly what she did.”
“She might have tread softer had you not so advised her, but my behaviour would have been no different; you are not to blame,” Lady Anne said. “Fitzwilliam, doubtless she has gone home, has she not?”
“Bingley says she is not there.”
“Might he be hiding the truth? Perhaps she has begged him not to reveal her whereabouts.”
Mr. Darcy considered this. “I had not thought of that. I assumed I could trust Bingley’s word.”
“Perhaps you should go to Meryton yourself.”
“I am afraid to alarm her family; I would certainly be recognised.”
“Could you not send an agent to spend a few days in Meryton and watch her father’s estate and Bingley’s?”
“That is a good idea,” Mr. Darcy said, albeit grudgingly. “And you may stay here at Pemberley until Elizabeth is found, but not a minute longer. Are we agreed?”
“It is more than I deserve,” his mother said, her voice trembling with sincerity.
Leaving her son in his study, Lady Anne sat back in an armchair in the drawing room, shivering, though the room was warm. She thought back over the past many months, beginning with her insistence that Fitzwilliam marry Anne de Bourgh, a woman no more suited to be the mistress of Pemberley than her own maid, Hannah.
She had told her son the truth when she had admitted how very much she feared no longer having a role in life, no longer being the mistress of Pemberley. But how had she allowed that fear to coax her into behaviour so beyond the pale that she blushed to recall it? Sending Abby to be Elizabeth’s maid under the pretext of the recommendation having come from Mrs. Reynolds! And then asking – no, truth be told – demanding that Abby search Elizabeth’s belongings to find the Darcy jewelry, and describe all of Elizabeth’s doings! Abby had even reported on the newlyweds bedroom activities – oh, for shame, Anne Darcy!
She managed to get herself out of the chair and up the stairs, where Hannah was waiting for her. Hannah took one look at her mistress’ wet face and said, softly, “Oh, my lady,” and enveloped her in a hug.
“It has all gone quite wrong, has it not?” Lady Anne managed to say.
“Yes; but it has been wrong from the start, has it not?”
“It has. I am only now seeing it.”
“Are we to begin packing?”
“Soon; I am permitted to remain until Mrs. Darcy returns. After that, I am to move to Cumberland, and I find that I cannot blame him for insisting upon it.”