6 #2
Archer shrugged irritably and swallowed the last drop of coffee. “Anne is a beautiful, accomplished woman. She would be a great asset to me in my career—as my grandmother is always happy to tell me.”
“So you do mean to ask for her! And do you believe her feelings for you are such that she would accept?”
Archer stirred his spoon round his coffee cup, not noticing it was empty. “I think Anne would like the type of life I could offer her.”
“And love? Does that enter into your calculations at all, my hard-hearted friend? I myself will only marry for love.”
There was a long pause; Archer seemed distracted by the sight of a young gardener offering Miss Jane a particularly pretty pink and cream apple and her smiling acceptance of the fruit.
“Oh love! I have no time for such fancies and nor does Anne. It would be a good, suitable, advantageous marriage for both of us. And that is what marriage should be. I will not make the same mistake as my poor mother and ally myself to an unsuitable partner because of love. My father was a good man, but not the right husband for her.”
A touch on his sleeve—he glanced down to find Celeste smiling up at him. “Oh Mr Maitland, I am sorry, I did not mean to overhear your words, but it is exciting that you might be marrying my cousin, Anne Darcy!”
“There is nothing yet settled,” Archer replied hastily.
“Oh, I quite understand.” Celeste tapped her fan mischievously on his hand. “Have no fear, your secret is quite safe with me, Sir. My lips are sealed.” And she drew a finger across her mouth in a dramatic fashion. “But we are all friends and family here. We wish the best for all of us, I am sure.”
Andrew smiled. He found the Italian girl entertaining company, although she seemed to know very little, indeed nothing at all, about the wonderful Roman and Greek ruins on her island home of Sicily.
But then young ladies didn’t need to fill their heads with historical knowledge, although it was odd that she had never even visited certain towns famous their ruins.
“Well, I have no secrets to share with you, Signorina Celeste. My life is an open book. And, I daresay, a very boring one.” He laughed. “Now, if you will excuse me, I think I will join Miss Jane in the garden. It is too lovely an afternoon to stay indoors.”
Celeste fell silent, watching through the window as Andrew appeared, sitting next to Jane, helping himself to an apple from the basket in her lap.
She was aware of a twinge of jealousy. What was it about this pale, fair-haired creature that men found so appealing?
Irritation wriggled through her: Celeste was never happy unless all men in her vicinity were only showing interest in her.
She was aware of Archer Maitland by her side, his silence intriguing her. “Your friend, he has a tendresse for Miss Jane, I think,” she ventured at last.
“What? Excuse me, Signorina, my thoughts were many miles away. Andrew and Jane Darcy? Why—no! I mean, well, there is no reason why not, of course, because you will never meet a more good-hearted, kindly fellow than Andrew, but he is in no position to take a wife. He leaves for Greece very soon, for one of his interminable historical digs.”
“Greece is not that far away, not if you care for someone. And I am sure a wife could be very useful in such a situation. But then, even if he does, I fear his feelings will not be reciprocated.”
Archer felt a wave of indignation; he was very protective of his friend whom he thought to be a good man, far better than he himself. “I think Miss Jane Darcy would be proud to have gained the affections of such a man.”
“Oh la, of course, Mr Maitland! Of course. Forgive me, I meant no disrespect towards Dr Moore. A true gentleman, I do declare. It is just that—but no—I must not repeat servants’ gossip.
That is not the English way, although it is useful to have knowledge of all the facts when making up your mind about a person. ”
“Gossip?” Archer sounded disgusted.
“Oh, do not blame my poor maid, Luisa, for repeating what she has been told, Sir. Her English is not as good as mine and perhaps she misunderstands. The Darcy maid, Tabitha, told her that her mistress has come into the country to mend her broken heart. She is desperately in love with a Mr Digby Frobisher and Tabitha was sure that an announcement was about to be made when some argument occurred. He apparently asked for her sister’s hand, was refused and left Pemberley very abruptly.
“Poor Jane. She looks so wan and unhappy and now we must understand why. To be heartbroken is a dreadful thing, to be made so by your sister is even worse. But I am sure that it was all some sort of confusion and that the young man will soon appear on the scene to make Jane happy once more. True love will never be overcome.”
Archer did not reply. Digby Frobisher! He remembered a young puppy flirting with Anne Darcy at a soirée one evening in London.
A shallow, worthless sort of youth, as far as he could recall, no occupation except to spend his parents’ money and enjoy himself.
Lord knows why he thought Anne would have accepted his proposal.
Well, Jane and Frobisher! It made it very apparent to him just what her character must be like if she had fallen in love with such a man. They were, in his opinion, very suited to each other and he wished them a happy reunion and much joy!