Chapter Sixteen
The days had fallen into a pleasant routine.
In the mornings, Anne and Georgiana studied their languages with Mrs. Jenkinson.
Then they repaired to the music room, where Georgiana taught Anne the fundamentals of the pianoforte, and afterward practiced her own music while Mrs. Jenkinson and Anne worked on embroidery.
After luncheon, the two young ladies either went for a walk or for a drive. Mrs. Jenkinson was firm about accompanying them on their walks; she was equally firm about not accompanying them on their drives.
The dinners continued to be overlong, and Georgiana learnt to eat just a few bites of whatever she was given.
She was asked to play the piano every evening, which she found rather dull since no one was truly listening; but once Anne was able to play a few simple songs every evening, Lady Catherine’s evident delight in her daughter’s prowess made everyone smile.
In this manner, the days slipped by quickly.
Georgiana had changed a good deal since coming to Rosings.
Anne’s weakness required Georgiana to be strong; Anne’s shyness required Georgiana to be bold.
In trying to help her cousin become stronger and bolder, Georgiana had herself become stronger and bolder.
And she prided herself on how well she had succeeded in making their lives more pleasant!
Mrs. Jenkinson left them alone as often as they wished, and now they had this lovely little phaeton for their pleasure!
Georgiana sometimes thought that she, like the many flowers that filled Rosing’s gardens with their perfume, had truly blossomed under the warm sun of southern England.
***
One afternoon, Anne whispered to Georgiana that they might take their little phaeton to the nearby village of Hunsford.
“How far away is it?” Georgiana whispered back.
“I think it will take us about half an hour to get there,” Anne replied, still speaking quite softly.
“And another half an hour to get back. What will your mother say if we are gone so long?”
“She is visiting tenants today,” Anne whispered, gleefully.
“So we only have Mrs. Jenkinson to be concerned about,” Georgiana murmured. “What do we tell her?”
They stared at one another for a long minute, and then Anne whispered, excitedly, “I will tell her that we are going to look for wildflowers while we are riding through the Park in order to press them into an album!”
“So we may be gone longer than usual as a result of stopping for the flowers! Brilliant!”
Their plan worked. Mrs. Jenkinson thought the idea of an album of pressed flowers perfectly lovely.
“I will look for an album,” she said. “There is certain to be one in the schoolroom that can be pressed into service! Oh! I made a joke, did I not? Pressed into service?” She was delighted with herself.
The two girls laughed, as they knew they must, and then they hurried out. “We must bring a footman, you know,” Georgiana said. “Or people will stare at us.”
Anne thought for a minute. “Jack will keep our secret; wait here.” She was back a minute later with a young footman; his eyes were twinkling at the idea of being part of this escapade. “I promised him that I would take all the blame if my mother finds out,” she assured Georgiana.
“We will have to find some flowers, you know,” Georgiana said. “Or Mrs. Jenkinson will suspect us.”
“Oh, we are certain to see some on the road,” Anne replied.
“There are shops in Hunsford, are there not?” Georgiana asked.
“There most certainly are; have you any pin money?” Anne asked.
“Yes, two quarters’ worth,” Georgiana said. “Do you?”
“Yes, as I never seem to have occasion to use what I am given. Let us go shopping!”
***
To ladies accustomed to Bond Street, Hunsford would have been a great disappointment. But to two girls who had not been outside the grounds of Rosings Park for many weeks, it was paradise.
The phaeton took them to Hunsford with no difficulty at all; Jack tied the phaeton and Socks to a rail, and walked behind the two girls as they wandered the main street.
The shopkeepers seemed to know who the girls were, though Anne could not recall the last time she had been to Hunsford, and treated them with respect.
It was not long before Jack was carrying parcels for them.
They stopped for tea at a café, and Anne gave Jack a coin so that he might purchase a drink for himself at the pub across the road.
Georgiana noted the position of the sun and said, worriedly, “We had better be off, Anne.”
They collected Jack and went back to Socks and the little phaeton. They made for Rosings Park with all possible speed, stopping now and then to quickly gather flowers.
When they finally pulled into the gravel drive that led to the house, Anne was beginning to feel nervous. Were they too late? “Quickly, Jack, take the phaeton round the back and bring the parcels into the house!”
Jack did so with great speed, and it was just in time, for Lady Catherine’s carriage came around the bend and into the gravel drive as the front door closed behind them.
Fenworth stared at the two of them, shaking his head, but when Georgiana put her finger on her lips with a pleading expression on her face, his own visage changed.
He smiled and nodded, mimicking her gesture.
***
Lady Catherine laughed softly to herself. She had been informed of the girls’ excursion to Hunsford the very moment she had entered the house. Did they really think that her servants would keep such a thing secret from her?
She had had a good deal to think about of late.
She had long ago accepted the fact that Anne’s poor health condemned the girl to a quiet life at Rosings Park.
She had chosen a steward who would be capable of managing the estate for Anne after Lady Catherine’s death; then, after Anne’s passing, the estate would go to a cousin of her late husband. It was unfortunate, but there it was.
Since Georgiana’s arrival, however, Lady Catherine had begun to believe that a different future was possible.
Anne’s cheeks were rosy, her thin frame had begun to fill out.
There was strength in her walk, and determination in her words.
This Anne, this new Anne, was a different person entirely.
She was someone who might marry and produce a child!
Lady Catherine was not someone who was easily given to hope. She had suffered a good many disappointments in her life, not the least of which had been her poor marriage.
Catherine Fitzwilliam had been well-born and well-dowered, but she had never been a beauty.
It was unfortunate for her that a good number of debutantes with good birth, good dowries and good looks had come out the same year that she had, and so she had been entirely overlooked.
The second Season had been much the same; by the time she had her third Season, she was firmly fixed in everyone’s mind as a failure.
Other girls laughed at her behind her back.
Then she watched as her younger sister, Anne, married the wealthy and handsome George Darcy.
It was only Sir Lewis de Bourgh, drunkard, gambler and all-round rotter, who had finally made her an offer, and then only because he had completely run out of money.
She accepted him because she had no choice, but his estate, Rosings Park, had made it all worthwhile.
She had fallen in love with Rosings the moment she had seen it, and had suffered her husband’s drunken advances only so that she might remain at Rosings.
The day he had died, falling off his horse in an intoxicated state, had been the second best day of her life; the first, of course, had been the day that Anne had been born.
Lady Catherine was afraid to hope too much too soon. She would wait; she would watch Anne to make certain this newfound strength was real. If it was, then Anne could actually marry and bear a child!
And in that case, it would be best all round for Anne to marry one of the local gentry and not go to Town. Lady Catherine could not bear the idea of her beloved Anne at the mercy of the ton.