Chapter 5
Despite his prodding, Richard could not draw anything from Darcy further than what he already knew– that Darcy had been engaged to Miss Elizabeth Bennet, and that she chose to end it.
But Richard could read between the lines that meeting her had unsettled Darcy. It might have been her choice to end their union, but Darcy clearly still held feelings for her.
Richard wondered how he might bring them together in company again, what with his aunt’s feelings on the matter. Lady Catherine must fear that Darcy might call off his engagement to Anne, if she was so determined to keep him away from Elizabeth Bennet.
He did not have to wonder how to accomplish this, however.
The following day, Miss Bennet herself arrived to call, in the company of the Collinses.
Toadface, as Anne liked to call him, could not help but take the opportunity to grovel at Her Ladyship’s feet, congratulating her on her daughter’s engagement, despite having been explicitly told not to come.
Richard seized the chance to invite their party to stay for luncheon, which was met with protests from Lady Catherine.
But when Anne and Darcy entered the room and Anne echoed the same, his aunt had no choice but to officially make the invitation herself; her good breeding demanded it if she wished to save face.
Mr. Garbutt arrived, the purpose of the luncheon being to discuss the wedding plans that were interrupted the night before.
Thankfully, he remained awake the entire meal.
Lady Catherine commanded Darcy’s attention throughout the courses, although her asking his opinion on anything was merely a pretense as she dictated every detail that was to come.
Mr. Garbutt, through his wet coughs, nodded his agreement to it all while Mr. Collins muttered his grievances to Mrs. Collins at being excluded from the whole affair.
Much as these dynamics amused Richard, he found their preoccupation convenient, for it left him free to converse with Anne and Miss Bennet.
“Do tell me about yourself, Miss Bennet, for we have just begun to be acquainted,” he offered.
Her lips quirked in amusement. “I fear there is little to tell that would not bore you. You already know that I am from Hertfordshire and am a cousin of Mr. Collins. I have four sisters. My older sister is lately married, the wife of Mr. Charles Bingley.”
“Yes, I am acquainted with him a little. Darcy’s friend, from Cambridge.”
She nodded. “That is the man. My younger sisters all still reside at home.”
“That makes you the second, then,” he deduced.
The corners of her mouth opened into a full smile. “I can see that you are a bright man, Colonel Fitzwilliam. Tell me, where do you rank among your brothers and sisters? Not the first, surely.”
He chuckled. “No, that lot falls to my brother, Viscount Fitzwilliam, I am afraid. He will inherit the earldom one day. I am the second-born, and as such, it was my duty to take up arms for King and Country.”
“How very brave of you!” Miss Bennet commended him.
“Bravery has little to do with it, I fear. Duty and familial expectation are everything in a family like mine. I could not show my face at home if I had not followed the course of my career, especially when we had old Boney to contend with.”
Anne piped up. “You must do your impression of Bonaparte for Miss Bennet, Richard, I am sure she would like it.”
Richard obliged, giving his rendition of the petty tyrant, with French accent and mannerisms, that brought Miss Bennet to hearty laughter and tears.
“You must have seen the man personally, during your fights abroad, to imitate him so well, sir,” Miss Bennet said.
Richard’s face twitched. “Er, from a distance, perhaps, but most of what is generally known comes from satire and reports from those closest to him.” He couldn’t reveal his recent involvement in the espionage affairs, even among such a small gathering.
Anne changed the subject. “So, Miss Bennet, you became acquainted with our cousin Darcy while in Hertfordshire?”
Miss Bennet’s expression changed, but she took the question in stride. “Yes, we first met at our local assembly in Meryton, and were often in company together due to the proximity of our households. I saw him again when my sister and I visited our aunt and uncle in London.”
She did not mention their engagement, he noted, her eyes casting a glance downward, her mood less cheerful.
In his haste to ease her discomfort, he redirected the conversation to other topics until the meal was finished.
Afterwards, upon Anne’s suggestion, the young people all took a walk through the park.
Darcy and Richard took turns pushing Anne’s chair.
Mrs. Jenkinson had the day off, having gone shopping in Westerham.
Richard did not mind attending to Anne in her absence.
Frankly, he relished the additional time in her company.
When he exchanged places with Darcy, it afforded him and Anne the opportunity to observe Darcy and Miss Bennet as they strolled the path ahead of them.
They maintained a formal distance, yet a sudden peal of laughter from Miss Bennet, followed by a visible softening in Darcy’s countenance, briefly dispelled their unease.
Their warmth was fleeting, however, as their stiff posture took hold once more, the quiet tensions returning.
Richard noted that Darcy did not offer Miss Bennet his arm, but there was a rare smile on Darcy’s face as he devoted his full attention to her, something Richard had not seen displayed since their arrival.
“Their relations seem strained, and yet, I can discern a sense of longing between them,” Anne remarked.
Richard’s eyes widened. “You are astute, my love. Darcy’s longing, I sensed immediately, but his lady’s, I could not, apart from her discomfort during luncheon.”
“Did she truly think that news of their engagement would not reach us through her cousin?” Anne wondered aloud.
“Darcy seemed to think so.” Richard chuckled. “He was surprised that I knew of it. Apparently, it was a short-lived union. I do not even know if the banns were read.”
“Perhaps Miss Bennet agreed to marry him in haste, then changed her mind,” Anne suggested. “But for what reason, I cannot surmise. Do you suppose a disagreement between them occurred?”
Richard shrugged. “Your guess is as good as mine. Perhaps we may play matchmaker. You are certain you cannot get your mother to cancel the party this Saturday?”
Anne shook her head. “She is as determined to move forward with it as she is to have this wedding. She must have the opportunity to show off to her neighbors. She has gone to great lengths with the preparations for it. Additional footmen have been hired from the village even.”
“Invite Miss Bennet to the party,” Richard suggested.
Anne grinned. “Mother won’t like it.”
Richard’s eyes dazzled. “Precisely.”
Upon reaching the fork where the path to the parsonage parted from them, Anne extended the offer to Elizabeth, who hesitantly accepted.
Richard watched his other cousin’s face, noting with pleasure that Darcy seemed a little ruffled to know that his former fiancée would be present at the celebration of his engagement to his present one.
Perhaps there was hope for their plan yet.
S
When she returned to Anne’s chambers that afternoon, Jenkinson quietly gave her a small purse of coins.
“It did not fetch as much as I had hoped, the silver jewelry box, nor the set of pearls and earrings. I pray it will be enough, mistress.”
“Let us hope that I do not need to spend a penny of it. Thank you, Jenkinson,” Anne said, wheeling herself the short distance to her bedside where she had hidden everything beneath a loose floorboard.
She had spent months preparing for her flight from Rosings, selling off her own jewelry and trinkets and whatever household items she could pilfer without them being noticed.
It was not as if she was actually stealing them, she reasoned.
After all, the entirety of the house and its contents would pass to her upon her mother’s death.
“You are certain that the pawnbroker is discreet?” Anne asked.
Jenkinson nodded. “He knows the items came from ‘my Mistress de Bourgh’, as it were, but is under the impression that the estate has fallen on hard times and Her Ladyship wishes to keep up appearances. All the family heirlooms have been recorded in his book under the name of Emily St. Aubert, should you wish to retrieve them at a later date.”
Anne grinned at the reference to her favorite, The Mysteries of Udolpho. “That is brilliant, Jenkinson! I knew I could count on you to have it well in hand.”
Removing the board, Anne took out the brass lock box and opened it with the key that she kept around her neck or waist at all times.
Inside was the bulk of her savings, hoarded up from her pin money over the past few years along with the money from the items she had sold.
She received a generous allowance, intended for the purchase of her clothing and accoutrements, for which Anne had little use other than what was practical.
Of course, she knew her mother expected her to maintain a certain appearance.
She could not go without any alterations to her wardrobe or Lady Catherine would certainly notice.
But, coming from her life as a widow, Mrs. Jenkinson had taught her many secrets to economizing.
Dyeing of silks and calicoes, remaking and retrimming of gowns and bonnets, or even just changing the color of a Spencer or overdress, was often enough to fool Lady Catherine into thinking that this was a new ensemble entirely.
And if Lady Catherine should happen to notice, Anne would simply say something along the lines of “oh, this material was so fine, I thought it too great a waste not to have it remade a la mode,” or “this bonnet is such a great favorite of mine, I could not bear to give it away, so I simply asked Jenkinson to retrim it for me this season.”
In time, Lady Catherine came to see her daughter’s frugality as a virtue, even praising her for being sensible and not wasteful, like other frivolous young ladies of the ton, but still reminding her that as the first family of the neighborhood they were expected to set the example in both dress and conduct.
To comply, Anne allowed herself one new gown per year, so that she might also pass down something to Jenkinson before it was too worn out to be of any use.
Turning her attention to the box of coins, she dumped it out on the bed and began to count it out.
“Will it be enough, mistress?” Jenkinson asked.
“I think so,” Anne replied. “It will have to be. If Richard’s plan fails to work, then he will have no choice but to accept my plan.”
“And if he refuses?”
Anne huffed. “I shall run away without him.”
Jenkinson laughed. “I would come with you, I suppose, if that were to be the case. I might come anyhow, if you need me.”
Anne grasped Mrs. Jenkinson’s hand. “You are a dear to me, you know that, Jenkinson. I shall ensure that you are well-compensated for your troubles, for I know that you shall be left without a position once I am gone.”
Jenkinson shrugged. “You could simply refuse to say your vows to the gentleman, you know. To Mr. Darcy, I mean. When old Garbutt asks you to say ‘I do’, you merely reply ‘I do not’. Imagine Her Ladyship’s face if you did such a thing!”
“You do amuse me, Jenkinson! And if it came to it, I suppose, yes, that is what I would do. But I cannot imagine how shameful it would be for poor Cousin Darcy if I allowed things to progress so far as for me to snub him at the altar. I am cowardly enough to think it much better if I should run off during the night.”
“But where would you go, my dear? Apart from your dear cousins, you have no one upon whom you can rely on, and these funds will only last you so long. As a woman traveling alone, in your condition, it would be dangerous, at best, even if I accompany you.”
Anne clicked her tongue. “Yes, you are right, dear Jenkinson. I cannot escape without a firm plan.”
“What does your lover suggest?”
“Richard is a coward and wishes to avoid an elopement altogether. He has been dodging my suggestion for months. But I feel his intuitions are not entirely incorrect, and if they are, we may be spared the necessity of it.”