Chapter 3
Anne did not summon Richard to meet her at night again, nor did he pay her a visit unbidden.
She was furious with him for having given up so soon.
She had expected him to sweep in like a knight in shining armor and carry her off on his noble steed to some far off place—perhaps Scotland might be reasonable—where they could marry without her mother’s interference and put this whole nonsense of her marrying Cousin Darcy to bed.
How he could even consider her reputation was beyond imagining—what did she care what anyone else thought when her very happiness was at stake?
There must be more to it that she had not considered.
Perhaps he feared her mother’s retribution or that his father might cut off his allowance at her behest. Anne reminded herself that the full sum of her inheritance would not be hers until her next birthday, but the portion she had access to in the meantime ought to be enough to support them in the meantime, surely!
And they would have his income from the War Office if he took the position he was meant to have.
Even if she were turned away from Rosings, which ought to be her rightful home, although she would not inherit it until her mother’s death, they could rent a little house someplace in Town.
Perhaps Mrs. Jenkinson would consent to come live with them.
Goodness knows she had been a faithful friend and confidant!
While Richard and Darcy played chess in the morning room, Anne returned to reading Udolpho.
She could commiserate with the heroine, feeling that Rosings was much like Castle Udolpho as a prison, although she supposed and Darcy were together like poor Emily St. Aubert, pressed into unwanted marriage.
She honestly did not know what bewitchment her mother had put Cousin Darcy under to induce him to agree to a betrothal when, for so many years, he had resisted the notion entirely.
She suspected that lady Elizabeth Bennet was the cause.
His failed engagement to her had certainly put a damper on his mood.
Cousin Darcy was normally of a sober disposition, but Anne could tell that his spirits were unusually dismal.
What Darcy did not know was that Miss Bennet currently resided just across the park from them as a guest at Hunsford Parsonage.
Lady Catherine had taken great pains to keep that detail from both of her nephews, and strictly forbidden Anne and anyone else from speaking of it.
Anne had tried, unsuccessfully, to hint of it to her cousins once or twice, but without broaching the subject directly—which would have enraged her mother—Anne could not make known to Darcy that the lady-love who had broken with him was not only within the county, but in that very neighborhood.
She could have told Richard in private, she supposed, but she had not thought to on the night he visited, and she had been far too angry with him to speak to him further, outside of the cursory civilities that were required to maintain their facade of amicability in front of Lady Catherine.
If Darcy knew Elizabeth Bennet was nearby, would he renew his addresses to her? Or would the knowledge only pain him further?
April showers had kept them indoors the past few days, so Anne could not suggest a call at the parsonage, nor even a constitutional walk through the park, where they might happen to meet one of the parsonage residents, who were freely permitted to roam the park for their own exercise whenever they wished (there had to be some benefits to having the patronage of Lady Catherine de Bourgh, Anne supposed).
Now that the grounds were dry, Anne could see no reason for them to remain indoors any longer.
Darcy won the chess game, as he often did, and they were setting up to begin another, when Anne closed her book and spoke.
“We have not had any calls from the parsonage in days,” she remarked nonchalantly. “I hope that Mr. Collins has not fallen ill in this weather.”
Lady Catherine had been preoccupied with her correspondence at the small writing desk in the corner, but she looked up upon hearing this.
“I am certain that Mr. Collins is perfectly well. If he were not, one of the servants would have informed me of it,” she stated, resuming the scratching of her quill pen. “He is merely preoccupied with his parish duties.”
Richard cocked his head in their direction. “Has he so quickly lost his devotion to his patroness, then? He was quite dutiful to call here no less than every other day when I visited last summer.”
Darcy cleared his throat as he made his first move on the board.
“If I gathered one thing about Mr. Collins from my brief observation of him in Hertfordshire, it was that his dedication to my aunt is absolute. Over half his speeches contained a reference to her in some form or fashion. It does strike one as odd then, that he has not made an appearance since our arrival. Perhaps he has stayed away on account of our presence. At any rate, I have been remiss not to call on him, owing to…our mutual connections.”
“Excellent, I shall join you then, I think,” Richard said. “I have been much too cooped up as of late.”
Lady Catherine swiveled sharply, the wheels of her revolving chair squeaking in protest under her weight.
“Darcy can owe no particular courtesy to Mr. Collins on such a scant acquaintance as theirs. And as I am in need of both of your company today, I cannot possibly spare you to make meaningless social calls.”
“Richard is right, though,” Anne said. “We have been much too confined, thanks to the weather. Now that it is fairer, we ought to take a walk. I am much in need of fresh air, and it would do me good to be pushed around the pond, if one of my cousins would be so kind.”
“Mrs. Jenkinson shall take you for half an hour, then,” Lady Catherine commanded. “I can see from your pallor that you have been missing the restorative benefits of your constitutional. The men may go another day.”
Puzzled by all this, Cousin Darcy and Richard agreed to keep Lady Catherine company while Anne and Mrs. Jenkinson went out.
But no sooner had they returned than the gentlemen declared that it was their turn to take advantage of the fair weather, and that their presence could be spared for an hour or so, with Anne and Mrs. Jenkinson to supply their loss.
Anne could not help but feel a mite pleased at their determination.
But would their excursion offer anything more than a bit of exercise and sunshine?
Before they left, Anne remarked to Darcy that the path around the pond was very pleasantly shaded that morning.
A smile formed on her lips. She was certain she had seen a young woman exit the parsonage and head up the pathway encircling the pond in the opposite direction about when she had passed that way on her way back to the house.
Knowing the approximate time it took to complete the circuit, if the gentlemen headed that way now, they would likely encounter her as she made her way around…