Expectations: The Transformation of Miss Anne de Bourgh (Pride and Prejudice Continued), Volume 1

by Melinda Wellesley

Chapter Eight

  Lady Catherine arrived the next midday. With dread in her heart, Anne stood in the entryway with Mrs. Jenkinson and the rest of the servants to greet her. As she ascended the steps, Lady Catherine was indeed accompanied by a young man. However, unlike her other would-be suitors, this man spoke to Lady Catherine with ease and smiles. The well-dressed man looked to be in his early thirties, and, while not classically handsome, he exuded a calm confidence that Anne found most pleasing.

  The mystery of the gentleman was solved after they entered the building. With exultation, Lady Catherine introduced him to Anne as Dr. Josiah Minton. She crowed about stealing him away from the best families in London to bring him to Rosings as Anne’s personal physician.

  Dr. Minton made a low and gracious bow. “Miss de Bourgh,” the physician said in a well-modulated voice, “I have heard so much about you from your mother that I feel we are already acquainted. I look forward to serving you.”

  Anne held her handkerchief over her mouth and coughed lightly. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Dr. Minton.”

  Anne watched as her mother presented her new physician to the servants as the brightest young star in London’s medical community. His gracious and charming manner won approval from all. Perhaps he was handsome, Anne thought. She felt a little flummoxed. Her own doctor! In truth, he would not be her own. She would have to share his attention with her mother, who had developed a few nagging complaints. Now the dinner guest list made sense. The three families included the most proficient gossips in this part of Kent. News about her mother’s coup in luring such a great man from London would travel far and wide. He would be Anne’s physician, but he would also be Lady Catherine’s opportunity to display her social prowess. For Anne, that would be no sacrifice. Having a full-time doctor was more of a responsibility than she knew how to bear.

  As his bags were delivered to his room, Dr. Minton joined Lady Catherine, Anne, and Mrs. Jenkinson in the winter sitting room for tea. Lady Catherine had been talking about who called on her in London, the latest news about people Anne had never met, and her efforts to track down the doctor whom all the society ladies had praised to the stars. Bringing him out of London—and away from all those doting doyennes—was her singular triumph, and she could not say enough about it. Anne wanted to mention her dancing classes to her mother before the dinner guests arrived, but she realized she would have no chance.

  In the sitting room, Dr. Minton listened to Lady Catherine with great deference, and he smiled at all the right times and even colored when she praised his skills in treating Lady Willoughby’s gout. “I assure you, madam,” he protested, “there was nothing extraordinary about that lady’s illness. Her treatment was the usual recommendation. I did nothing noteworthy.”

  “To hear her talk,” said Lady Catherine, “one would think you parted the heavens and had the saints at your beck and call.” Dr. Minton demurred with suitable modesty and made a small move to reply, but Lady Catherine continued, “Yes, Anne, I knew he would be just the man to revive your health. If he could treat Lady Willoughby’s unending case of gout so easily, imagine what he can do for you.”

  Lady Catherine went on in this manner for another ten minutes, and then, satisfied that she had made her point, she asked her daughter how she had been during her absence, as she gave the appearance of having a cold. Anne relayed that she had indeed been somewhat ill but the apothecary had seen to her needs. Her mother scoffed, saying that now as they had a physician, a mere mixer of herbs would no longer be needed. She then asked if anything interesting had happened while she was away.

  Anne hesitated as Mrs. Jenkinson looked at her. She had planned for this moment for days, but now it was upon her too soon. She would have to begin carefully. “The Fairfax sisters have a new dancing master.”

  “Oh, they came to tell you this? They are attentive friends, indeed.” Lady Catherine smiled with great condescension. “I suppose they tried to convince you to observe their lessons.”

  Anne should not have doubted her mother’s acuity, but she was surprised at her words. “Yes, they did. …And I went.”

  Her mother’s patronizing smile faded. “You did? Is that how you caught that cold?”

  Anne was trying to summon a defense when Dr. Minton came to her rescue. “I recommend light dancing for all my patients who are able to participate. It is beneficial for the lungs, as well as the sinews and muscles. The exercise also helps to prevent illnesses. I imagine Miss de Bourgh would be sicker now if she had not been to the lessons.”

  Lady Catherine eyed him with mild disapproval. “Sir, you make the false assumption that she actually danced, rather than merely watched. Anne has not had the strength to dance in many years.”

  “…Actually, I did participate in the slowest dances,” Anne said with a shudder of fear.

  Her mother regarded her. “You did? You attempted to dance? I shall have to talk with Sir Robert and Lady Fairfax this evening about the effrontery of their girls to entice you into such foolish behavior.”

  With Mrs. Jenkinson watching her, Anne mustered a reply. “I chose to go, Mamma. I wanted to see the lesson, and after watching the first time I thought I should like to try it myself. I did not exert myself. Mrs. Jenkinson will attest to that.” Her companion’s nod gave Anne some much-needed assurance.

  “I see,” her mother replied with a thoughtful frown. “Well, perhaps the doctor is right. Modest exertion might be good for you.” A smile grew. “I remember when I was young, I attended every ball, and I never once wanted for a partner….”

  As the talk now revolved around her mother’s former social life, Anne noticed that Dr. Minton was watching her instead of her mother. At first she wondered if he was examining his new patient, but after a while she began to feel his interest could be as much personal as professional. She could not look at him. She had never had anyone pay such close attention to her before. It was…unsettling.

  After Lady Catherine concluded her monologue of self-congratulation, she signaled the servants to remove the tea service and then regarded her fine young treasure. “Dr. Minton, I expect you wish to waste no time. You should conduct your first examination of Anne now, before the guests arrive.”

  Anne hoped she did not blush.

  Dr. Minton nodded, then asked Miss de Bourgh permission to sit next to her. She nodded. He moved to the chair next to her, and he was about to ask her a question when he looked at Lady Catherine. The woman had not stirred from her chair, and she watched him with the keenest interest. “Madam,” he said with polite deference, “medical examinations are a confidential matter between the physician and the patient.”

  Lady Catherine frowned. “Are you insinuating that I should leave?”

  “It is the standard practice,” the doctor replied evenly. “Her woman should stay. But everyone else must go and allow Miss de Bourgh the privacy to speak freely.”

  Lady Catherine’s frown grew deeper. “Sir, I am her mother. And I am paying you. I have every right to be present.” She did not move.

  Anne’s embarrassment grew. She had no surprise, but she still felt grieved by her mother’s insistence. Dr. Minton looked at Anne, then said with all politeness to her mother, “Lady Catherine, I am sure you want what is best for your daughter. I promise I shall give you a full report when I have completed my examination.” He then regarded the lady with silent concentration, making it clear that he would proceed no further while she stayed in the room.

  Lady Catherine glared at him, but after some thought she yielded. She stood, then announced, “I shall be in my library, consulting with the cook about tonight’s meal.” She swept out of the room.

  Anne blinked in amazement. No one had ever made her mother do something she did not want with such civility. Perhaps Dr. Minton did have the saints at his beck and call.

  For the next hour, under the watchful eyes of Mrs. Jenkinson, Dr. Minton asked Anne questions about her health, how much she ate, when she ate, her exercise habits, and
two score other details. She answered every question, realizing as she heard her own words that she ate little and did even less. He checked her pulse and through a tube listened to her heart. He then stopped for a while and wrote down some notes. Anne wanted to read them, but he kept his paper at an angle that guaranteed privacy. He then asked Mrs. Jenkinson a few questions about Anne, mostly about the frequency of her illnesses, their severity and duration, and other details that an observer would be better qualified to answer.

  As he spoke with Mrs. Jenkinson, Anne studied him. Underneath his polite and professional manner, he seemed genuinely to care. Most of her previous physicians showed more interest in her maladies than in her, but Dr. Minton seemed to focus all his attention on her wellbeing. No wonder he had been the toast of the London society ladies. The more she watched him, the better looking he grew. By the end of the interview, he had become quite handsome in her eyes. It might not be a burden after all to be the center of someone else’s attention.

  When he finished, he declared her weak but not infirm. He had every hope that she could improve with the proper care. With a pleasing smile and apology for the necessity of leaving her, he departed to discuss his findings with Lady Catherine.

  Anne was surprised to see Mrs. Jenkinson almost as excited as she herself felt. “Did you hear that, Miss? I cannot recall any other doctor being so hopeful! All those London specialists are nothing compared to him.”

  Anne’s heart raced with excitement as she retired to her room to change for dinner. She could get better! Her only fear was that “the proper care” might be strenuous.