Chapter Sixty-Nine
The next day, Miss de Bourgh arrived promptly at two, as she had promised. Surprisingly, though, she asked Mary if Mrs. Jenkinson might remain at the parsonage. “With three people, it is too crowded for comfort,” she explained.
Mrs. Jenkinson looked uncomfortable with this, but Miss de Bourgh was quite firm, and so Mrs. Jenkinson remained behind at Collins Cottage, and Elizabeth and Miss de Bourgh went off at a nice clip in the phaeton.
“Oh, thank heavens,” Miss de Bourgh said. “What a relief to be rid of her!”
“You do not like her, then?” Elizabeth queried.
“She is too clingy by far, and when she is with me, I am never allowed to drive fast!” With that, she cracked her light whip in the air and the two horses sprang forward. Elizabeth clutched onto the sides of the phaeton, but could not help shouting with glee.
“I knew you would be fun, I knew it!” Miss de Bourgh yelled out.
“I am glad I could accommodate you,” Elizabeth said, laughing, as she tied her bonnet strings tighter.
“And do you know,” Anne went on. “I am allowed to go to Hunsford with Mrs. Jenkinson, but am not permitted to spend as much as a shilling of my pin money! What is pin money for, if not to be spent on fripperies?”
“Truly? You are not permitted to buy anything?” Elizabeth was quite surprised.
“Books! I am allowed to buy books, but nothing else! Not so much as a shawl or a bonnet, let alone a gown, which is why I am dressed in horrid things like this.”
“I am sorry, Miss de Bourgh,” Elizabeth replied. “I rather envied you, when I first saw Rosings Park, but now…well, it does sound like a rather dull life.”
“Dull! Dull indeed, until you came! I beg you to call me Anne, and allow me to call you Elizabeth,” Miss de Bourgh said, hands clasped at her chest.
“Of course, Anne. Or Lizzy, as my family does.”
“I so want you to be my friend. You see, I have no friends here,” Anne confessed. “Mother does not allow me to associate with people she considers our social inferiors, and so…” She shrugged.
“I would be delighted to be your friend; but I am your social inferior, am I not?” Elizabeth said.
“You are the daughter of a landed gentleman, so in that we are equal. You have no title, neither do I.”
“Oh; your father was a knight,” Elizabeth realised.
“Yes; my mother’s title is a courtesy title, as she is the daughter of an Earl. So not quite as grand as she makes out, though my father’s estate, as you saw, is everything elegant.”
“It is certainly the most beautiful home I have ever seen,” Elizabeth said, honestly. “Aside from Buckingham Palace, of course!”
“Oh! You have been to London?”
“Certainly,” Elizabeth said.
“Certainly! Ha! As if everyone has had such an opportunity! I would do anything to go, I really would!”
“Would your husband not take you?” Elizabeth saw her chance and took it without hesitation.
“Husband?”
“Are you not betrothed to Mr. Darcy?” She kept her face as still as possible, but could not stop a small tremor from her voice.
Anne turned to Elizabeth, her eyes wide. “Oh, Lord, is that story still going about?”
“My cousin, Mr. Collins, mentioned that your mother had said something of the sort.”
Anne rolled her eyes and groaned. “Poor Darcy! No, there is nothing of the kind. Mother likes the idea, but she is the only one who does.”
“He seems eligible enough,” Elizabeth ventured.
“You know him? But how?”
“He is visiting a neighbour of ours, a Mr. Bingley. And another of your cousins is visiting as well, Mr. Fitzwilliam.”
“Oh, Reggie, poor old thing; of all the people to inherit an earldom. But what an odd coincidence! Oh, yes, Darcy is eligible enough, but – well, Lizzy, should I not have some sort of romantic feeling when I see him? For I confess that though he is quite handsome to look at, nothing within me stirs. Am I wrong to expect that? Have I read too many novels?”
“No, I do not think you wrong at all,” Elizabeth said, firmly. This was certainly not the right time to confess that she herself had all those feelings for Mr. Darcy! The memory of her fingers tingling was still quite fresh in her mind.
Anne stared at her with narrowed eyes for a moment, as if suspecting something, but then went on,” Not to mention that I shall have my hands full with Rosings Park and have no interest in being the mistress of Pemberley as well.”
“You will inherit Rosings?” Elizabeth was delighted to learn that Mr. Darcy was not engaged – at least, not to Anne de Bourgh! – but she was now astonished as well.
“Technically, it is already mine, and has been since my last birthday. But Mama takes so much pleasure in being the mistress of the estate, and she rather fears being relegated to the dower house. For my part, I see no need to burden myself with it until I must, so we have both been content to leave things as they are.”
Elizabeth was too confused to speak. Finally, she said, “I still do not understand. You are the mistress of an enormous estate, and you cannot go to London? From what I understand, you have relatives there, an Earl and a Countess. Are you estranged from them?” Elizabeth then realised she was likely speaking too freely, and she shook her head.
“Forgive me, Anne. I have no right to ask such questions.”
“No, no, you are quite right,” Anne said. She pulled on the reins, bringing the phaeton to a halt. Then she turned to face Elizabeth, with tears beginning to gather in her large brown eyes. “The Matlocks would be more than happy to host me. It is just that – that – I am afraid!”
With four sisters, Elizabeth had vast experience with female emotions, and she reached out and hugged Anne without hesitation.
This released more tears and more words, and soon Elizabeth understood that Anne de Bourgh, who had never been taught anything about how to go on in society, could not imagine how she would get on in London.
“I would be a laughingstock,” she told Elizabeth, wiping her eyes.
“My clothes are all wrong, I cannot dance, and I have no idea how to behave with other young ladies!”
“You could be taught to dance easily enough,” Elizabeth said, firmly.
“And your aunt would doubtless see to it that you were properly attired, instructed as to how to pour tea and whatever else, and then introduced to the right people. You could marry, if you like! With Rosings Park as a dowry, you would have your pick of eligible gentlemen!”
Anne made a face. “I do not want someone to take me for my dowry; my parents had such a marriage, and I can tell you that it was not pleasant to witness. No, I want someone who will love me!! I want those feelings we spoke of! I want my heart to beat fast, and my colour to rise, and all those lovely, sentimental things! And I will settle for nothing less!”