Chapter Eighteen
To celebrate the end of Lenten sacrifice and self-denial, the British ambassador to the court of Naples announced a series of balls. The inaugural event would be an invitation-only masquerade for the English population. To calm fears that the masquerade might suffer from the ribald reputation they had in London, the ambassador made assurances in the invitations that all in attendance would be ladies and gentlemen, and all would unmask at the end of the evening, thereby reducing, if not eliminating, the anonymous mischief that too-often characterized these events.
Harriet expressed her rapture at the prospect of a masquerade and immediately set out to design appropriate costumes for them all. When she learned that Dr. Minton had been included in the invitation in addition to Anne, Mrs. Jenkinson, and herself, she withdrew her universal offer and said she “would not presume to make a decision for so worthy a gentleman.” Dr. Minton declared that he took no offense at her retracted offer, saying it would be undignified for someone in his profession to be seen in a costume and would attend in evening dress and a simple mask. In truth, Anne felt grateful that Harriet would not be concocting something for him. Knowing her, she would devise an outfit that would seem acceptable on the surface but convey some sort of devilish secondary meaning. Harriet confirmed Anne’s suspicions when in private she laughed about making him up to be “Dick Turpin just before his hanging or Adonis after he’s been torn apart by the dogs.”
Mrs. Jenkinson wanted something allegorical, so she and Harriet discussed a primavera costume. Harriet thought something elegant would suit Anne, and she encouraged her to be a masked Elizabethan lady.
Anne had conflicting emotions about the matter. While she had been diligently practicing her dancing, she had never attended a ball in her life. She would hardly know how to behave. Yet, was not this trip about trying new things and doing what she had never done before? As the idea of a flirtation still lingered, doubts clouded her thoughts. With great trepidation, she let Harriet design a costume for her.
While a dressmaker from town put their costumes together, Anne made plans for their return to England, which would be started in about a month. It grieved her to think of leaving this place, but now that April had arrived, they would do well to be gone before the heat of summer descended on Naples. She planned their route back through all the Grand Tour cities they had hurried through, this time taking in the glories at a leisurely pace.
In her preparation, Anne went on a gift shopping expedition with Mrs. Jenkinson. For her mother, several pieces of jewelry and colorful clay figurines; a tea set for Mrs. Collins; an ornate crèche of clay figures for Mr. Collins, even though he might disapprove of its fineness as idolatry; carnival masks for Emily and Frances Fairfax, and other suitable items for their parents and other friends. The only item she had purchased for herself so far was a gold ring with a golden topaz stone that the merchant assured her would banish melancholy and impart courage.
On this trip into the city, one change caught Anne’s attention. She heard a lot more French being spoken. Perhaps the people of France had discovered the pleasures of the city as the English had, but these were not families visiting for the season. Most of the French speakers were male, many were young, and quite a few had a military bearing even if they wore no uniforms. Perhaps Napoleon had dispersed his army with the advent of peace. But if the treaty had been signed last year, why were these men only showing up now? The Neapolitans seemed ungracious to the Frenchmen, which could be expected after the French had so handily defeated them in their recent conflict, but otherwise they appeared unperturbed by this quiet invasion. Anne could not decide if this meant something or if she had finally noticed details that had been present all along.
A week before the masquerade, the dressmaker brought up to the villa the costumes for final fittings and approval. In Harriet’s room, Dolly helped the women into their outfits and admired the results. Anne stared in stunned dismay at what Harriet had ordered for her. The gold dress in the Elizabethan style, with its glass beads and veritable wings for a collar, would attract every eye in the hall. Anne had never been the public center of attention in her life. How would this dress on her be anything other than a terrible joke?
Harriet had chosen for herself the popular costume of old style men’s clothing, but the disguise so closely fit her form that there would be no mistaking her for a man. She admired herself in the mirror, then noticed Anne’s alarm in the reflection. “Is your dress not good enough?”
“It is too good!” Anne cried. “I cannot wear this.”
Harriet turned to her with a laugh. “How can it be too good? It is just right! You will be the queen of the masquerade.”
Anne began to undo the dress’s laces. Dolly joined her to assist with removing the costume. Anne felt like a fraud. To wear this would be a humiliation. What would her mother say? She could hear the searing criticism even with her mother several countries away. Such gaudy nonsense was beneath her. “I do not want to be a queen. In fact, I have changed my mind. I will not go.”
Harriet stared at her as Anne undid the collar and set it on the table. To her surprise, tears filled her eyes. In a moment, Harriet stood at her side with a handkerchief. “What’s this? Those should be tears of joy, but I daresay they are not. What do you mean, you won’t go?”
Anne accepted the handkerchief as Dolly stepped back a respectful distance to let her cry. “I will not. I cannot. Oh, the embarrassment of everyone looking at me!”
Harriet nodded for Dolly to leave, then after the maid had departed Harriet sat Anne down on the edge of the bed. “I have never heard greater nonsense in my life. You wanted this more than anything. And you said this trip would be your chance to try new things. What has changed your mind?”
Anne wiped her eyes. “What if my mother should hear about this from someone at the masquerade?”
Harriet frowned. “What if she should? There is nothing wrong with you, or the dress, or the occasion.”
“My mother would never approve of such a public display. She has never allowed me to attend a ball or dance.”
“First, how would she hear of it? Second, she has never let you go to a dance in your entire life? I have never heard of such a thing.”
Anne admitted, “She did not want me to risk becoming ill or being subjected to the judgment of others.”
Harriet shook her head. “I know she is an opinionated bully, but keeping her own daughter from having a bit of harmless fun with people her own age! No wonder you are afraid of everything. That’s not right. In fact, despite what you have said about her acumen, I wager she is more often wrong than right.”
Anne stared at her friend, stunned at her words. “How can you speak of my mother that way? You are here because of her generosity.”
“True,” Harriet said. “But that does not change the rest of her.”
Anne felt sick to her stomach. How could Harriet be so hateful and disloyal!
Harriet gave her a sad smile and softened her tone. “Anne, surely you know I am right. Lady Catherine is a vain, proud, and unkind woman. Except for you, her generosity only exists to make herself look better.”
Anne had never been so angry in her life. “How dare you….”
Harriet shook her head again. “I am not saying you should not love and respect her. She is your mother. But loving someone does not mean you should be blind to their faults.” Harriet almost laughed. “I know, my family is the very fount of flaws. My father is a gambler with no luck and less skill—we would be in the poorhouse if my mother were not such a miser and kept the funds hidden from us. My brothers love their food too well, and I know I speak out of turn—la, I’m doin’ it now!—and I am not afraid to stand up when I should sit down. But we all love each other like drunkards at the tavern. You forgive faults. That’s not the same as pretendin’ they don’t exist.”
Anne had no response. She wanted to rail against this woman’s vile and senseless venom, but her anger twisted up any arguments she migh
t have offered.
Harriet said, “Anne, I know for a fact that you understand. You are doing it already, only you may not think of it that way. You do not always agree with your mother. I have heard you talk about your cousin Elizabeth. Mrs. Jenkinson said Lady Catherine cannot stand her. But instead of believing your mother is always right and cutting all ties with your cousin, you write to her on the sly. You honor your mother by respecting her feelings, but you stay friends with your cousin because you know she is a good person and your mother is mistaken.”
Anne’s head and heart fought to a draw, leaving her frozen in silence. She knew Harriet was wrong, and the most ungrateful, unkind creature who had ever lived, but she had no words to express her outrage.
Harriet said, “I know this is a lot to think about, and this is something none of us want to dwell on, but consider what will happen when your mother is gone someday. You will need to run your life then. Or are you going to go to the church every day and sit by her crypt until you join her? You need to live your own life, Anne.” Harriet patted her friend’s hand, then stood and called for Dolly to return and help Anne change out of her costume.
A cloud of confused thoughts swam around Anne’s mind as the maid eased off the Elizabethan costume and helped Anne back into her afternoon dress. Anne wanted to hate her sensible friend, but her thoughts could not organize a way to address her feelings. She could only gaze at the regal gown as Dolly straightened it out to pack it for the dressmaker. Anne did love the dress. It was all wrong for her, and yet she loved it. She could hear her mother’s ringing condemnation of such showy attire. But, then again, she would condemn the dress on anyone else. If Anne presented it to her for approval, her mother would steer her away from it without harsh words. She felt certain that meant her mother loved her and only wanted the best for her. Anne wondered how her mother talked about her when they were apart. Did she talk about her daughter to friends in the same manner that she talked about friends to her daughter? No, she knew that could not be possible. Her mother loved her and wanted only the best for her. Anne hated herself for entertaining the thought of anything less than that.
Yet, as she sat alone in her room during the afternoon, Anne could not hate Harriet, as much as she wished she could. In fact, with growing consternation, she could not dismiss everything her companion had said.
The friends had no conversation at supper, which drew the attention of both Mrs. Jenkinson and Dr. Minton, but when the doctor mentioned the quiet, Harriet offered the excuse of thinking about the masquerade. When he commented that such activities usually encouraged more talk among the ladies, not less, Harriet laughed lightly and countered that they were entitled to behave differently from the ladies back home.
That evening, after Anne retired, Mrs. Jenkinson joined her in her room to inquire. But Anne would not share her thoughts. Her mind was too full.
For the next two days, Anne kept more quiet than usual. Even as she went through her daily routine, her mind could rest on nothing beyond than what Harriet had said. She reviewed her life, going through every detail she could recall, trying to refute Harriet’s words against her mother. True, her mother had many opinions, but that did not make her “opinionated”…did it? She knew what was right, and she acted without fear and in the best interest of others. How could that make her a bully? Anne thought about all the times her mother had been crossed. Sometimes Lady Catherine did not respond with charity or grace. When Darcy chose to marry Elizabeth Bennet, her mother’s response had been severe, and the rancor still lingered more than three years later. Anne had always viewed her feelings as appropriate, since the engagement had been an understanding for decades, and her mother had expected him to fulfill his obligations to both families. But now, looking back on it, perhaps Anne could see that her mother had taken his actions as a personal affront and been too enthusiastic with her condemnation. Perhaps her mother did take too close an interest in the lives of others, even if she did mean well. …Perhaps, in a very small way, Harriet was right.
Expectations: The Transformation of Miss Anne de Bourgh (Pride and Prejudice Continued), Volume 1 Page 22