Expectations: The Transformation of Miss Anne de Bourgh (Pride and Prejudice Continued), Volume 1
Page 6
Chapter Four
Despite Mrs. Jenkinson’s strenuous and logical objections, Anne returned to Fairfax House the next day for her first dancing lesson—with her shepherd by her side, of course. Anne had passed a fitful night, worrying about everything she knew she would do wrong. Surely there were a hundred mistakes she could and would make. How embarrassed her friends would be when she took a misstep or turned left when she should turn right. She had worried herself into a knotted stomach and only a few hours of sleep. However, as much as she wanted to send her regrets, she did not. She would fail, and then she would get this foolish notion out of her head, and she would go home and stifle any further silly ideas if they arose.
Her hands trembled when the Saint-Vancomy family arrived at their appointed time. Introduced to her was the second son, Philippe, who would be Emily’s partner for the class. Monsieur would take the honor of being Anne’s partner. Anne knew it would be an honor dearly bought by the time the class finished.
Under Mrs. Jenkinson’s watchful gaze, Anne stood and joined her smiling friends in the center of the room. She said a silent prayer that she not make a complete fool of herself as Monsieur Saint-Vancomy addressed the group. “Since we have a new student, we will refresh with that most dignified and noble of dances, the minuet.”
Anne had heard of the elegance of the minuet, and on many occasions she had listened to Mrs. Jenkinson play them on the pianoforte in her room. But the movements were a complete mystery to her.
As the sisters stood next to their partners and took their hands, Monsieur Saint-Vancomy joined Anne. He bid her watch the couples, and told her to pay attention to when they stepped and when they paused.
Madame Saint-Vancomy began a slow accompaniment, and the two pairs of dancers began their graceful steps. Now that details mattered, Anne was perplexed. She could not follow what they did. Monsieur stayed with her and pointed out the rhythms. “Can mademoiselle see what they are doing?”
She could see what, but she could not see how. Oh, what a terrible blunder, thinking she could dance. She wanted to flee back to her chair.
But Monsieur took her hand and held it up in the dance pose. “Let us try now.”
As her friends glided through the sophisticated dance, Anne tried to imitate them with all the desperation of a doomed buffoon. Staring at their feet, she hesitated when she should have stepped and stepped when she should have waited. Why was this rhythm so complex? She forced herself to try harder. Smiling glances back from Emily and Frances did not help. She wanted to give them a nod, but she lost count of the rhythm and misstepped. She picked up the count again and doubled her concentration.
Monsieur Saint-Vancomy paused, then stopped. “Mademoiselle, please, relax. Do not try so hard.”
Only then did Anne apprehend the ferocity of her grip on his hand. She released him with a sharp breath. She could not look at him and returned her concentration on the sisters’ feet.
After several moments, Monsieur Saint-Vancomy asked her to stop. She regarded him with dread. She knew he would send her back to the periphery of the room where she belonged. Instead, in a kindly tone, he said, “Mademoiselle, you try too hard. The dance is first and foremost an act of joy. You are not happy now. Being correct will come from practice, but you will not practice if you do not have joy. I want you to be happy.”
As his words sunk in, Anne looked at the sisters’ movements, but she could no longer see them. Tears filled her eyes, and she began to weep. The music stopped, and her friends gathered around her with questions and exclamations and Monsieur’s surprised apologies as Mrs. Jenkinson appeared at her side with a handkerchief. Despite all the heartfelt concern around her, Anne could not answer their entreaties about her distress. She could only cry.