Chapter Four
W hen Mr. Darcy explained to his valet, Evans, what had required his change of clothing, Evans had merely raised an eyebrow, forbearing to venture an opinion on a young lady who was unable to pass a cup of tea to a guest.
Returning to the drawing room, Mr. Darcy was quick to decline the offer of another cup of tea. He sat back in his chair and listened as Lady Catherine explained how very accomplished Anne was. Anne was now taking pianoforte lessons, Lady Catherine announced in ringing tones, and the music master had pronounced Anne to be a veritable musical prodigy.
Anne had been given a fine drawing case, with the best paper and pencils money could buy, and Lady Catherine was in the process of finding someone to teach Anne to draw, adding testily, “Though it is not easy to lure the best masters to Hunsford; can they not see what an honour it would be to instruct Anne?”
Anne was evidently a proficient in the art of flower-arranging, and Lady Catherine was quick to point out the arrangements in the drawing room that owed their graceful symmetry to Anne’s fingers. Anne sat and tossed her head proudly throughout her mother’s monologue.
Mr. Darcy listened in silence, observing his cousin as Lady Catherine spoke. Anne was not and never would be pretty. Her figure was that of a child, her hair lank and evidently unable to hold a curl or even to be successfully pinned up, as it had been left hanging about her face. Her overly ornate clothing only highlighted her physical deficiencies; she would have been better served by simpler attire. And perhaps stronger hair-pins.
Mr. Darcy did not consider himself to be a shallow man, but he would have liked his bride to be at least a little attractive! Still, her looks would not have been an unsurmountable obstacle had she other desirable qualities to offer.
But what were her other qualities? Her potential on the pianoforte had to be as imaginary as her art lessons, and he was well aware that she had no conversational skills whatsoever. If she could arrange flowers, that was all well and good, but should the proposed mistress of Pemberley not have a good deal more to offer than that? Who would manage the household budget? Who would hire the servants? Who would visit the tenants? Who would organize the entertainments that were expected of the Darcy family?
As mistress of Pemberley, Lady Anne Darcy now did these things; should her successor not be able to do them as well?
I promised my mother, he reminded himself. I must try to find some way of reconciling myself to this marriage. I should get to know Anne better; doubtless there is more to her than meets the eye or my mother would not insist upon this union.
“Anne,” he interrupted Lady Catherine’s ongoing praise of her daughter. “What are you reading?”
“Reading?” Anne looked confused.
“I know Rosings has an adequate library; surely you make some use of it.”
Lady Catherine said, quickly, “Anne gets a headache when she reads.”
“Perhaps eye-glasses would help,” Richard interjected. “My mother learnt that the headaches she experienced when reading were due to a problem with her eyes. She found a medical man in London who made eye-glasses for her, and they have cured her headaches entirely.”
“Anne will never wear eye-glasses,” Lady Catherine pronounced, irritably.
“Why is that?” Mr. Darcy asked.
“Because highborn ladies do not wear eye-glasses!” her ladyship snapped.
Richard frowned at her. “My mother is a Countess, Lady Catherine. If she can wear them, I think Anne can safely do so as well.”
“I do not like to read in any case,” Anne said, tossing her head. “It is tedious.”
Tedious? Reading was tedious? “Very well,” Mr. Darcy said, hastily. “What do you like to do, then? What occupies your time?”
“Well, I – I – “ And here she looked to her mother for help.
“Anne does not need to do anything, Darcy. Heavens, all these questions, it is as if you are interviewing her for a position in your household!”
Richard looked outraged. “But that is exactly what he is doing!”
“Richard, it does not matter,” Mr. Darcy said, quickly.
“Does not matter is right ! Arrangements have been made ! They will wed !” Lady Catherine punctuated each sentence by thumping her stick on the rug.
“Arrangements have certainly not been made, Aunt,” Richard insisted. “It has been discussed by you and Aunt Anne, but Darcy here has made no formal offer of marriage.”
All eyes then turned expectantly to Mr. Darcy. He took a deep breath and opened his mouth to make the formal offer of marriage that he had agreed to make and that his aunt and cousin were expecting
But much to his surprise, his throat closed up and no words would come out. Finally, he heard himself say, as if from a distance, “I beg you will excuse me.” Then he rose, bowed politely, and walked out.