From Admiration to Love

by Maria Grace

  “You would be the best suited to recognize that, would you not? Why do you not take your turn?” Anne rose and beckoned Georgiana take her place.

  Georgiana sat down and shuffled the music for a moment, settling on something that seemed to please her.

  Ah, what a pleasure. She was a truly accomplished musician—even down to her ability to select exactly the right piece for the right moment. Something light and soothing—just what everyone needed.

  Anne flounced back to Elizabeth and Aunt Catherine, bouncing the sofa slightly as she sat beside her mother.

  “Shall I have the tea brought in?” Elizabeth asked softly.

  “I would prefer brandy.” Fitzwilliam nodded at Darcy, who immediately retrieved an appropriate decanter from the locked cabinet.

  “I should like that and some biscuits too, if you have them.” Anne leaned back and crossed her ankles. “Playing leaves me entirely spent.”

  “Good thing you do not dance then, that would leave you—” Fitzwilliam muttered.

  “Dance? What an excellent idea!” Anne sprang up again, grabbed Elizabeth’s hand and dragged her toward Fitzwilliam. “You too, Darcy, you must dance with us. Georgiana, play us something light and merry!”

  Darcy appeared too astonished to do anything but obey. Anne pulled them into a little foursome and danced—rather cheerily all told—to the tune Georgiana provided, leaving Elizabeth utterly winded. Who knew Anne could be so light on her feet, such a gay partner, and with so much endurance?

  “I demand to know where you learned this?” Aunt Catherine stormed toward them.

  “Is this not why you sent me to school? To finish my accomplishments?” Anne turned her back on her mother and returned to the sofa with Georgiana.

  Mrs. Reynolds trundled in with a tea tray and seemed to rush back out as quickly as she could. This was not the first time Mrs. Reynolds had served during one of Aunt Catherine’s visits.

  Elizabeth busied herself preparing tea.

  “Oh gracious! What a goose I am! I forgot entirely!” Anne pressed her palms to her cheeks, mouth open in a round ‘o.’

  “What might that be?” Darcy asked slowly, deliberately, shoulders tense like a man anticipating disaster.

  “Miss Gifford, Miss Sarah Gifford. My very dear friend at school.” Anne turned her shoulder to Darcy and faced her mother. “Did I tell you, I invited her to come and spend Christmastide with us? Her family is touring the continent right now and it did not seem right to allow her to spend the holiday season alone with only her companion for company.”

  “You never mentioned this to me.” Aunt Catherine’s entire face pursed into a deep frown, and her color shifted to something rather puce.

  “Did I not? How addle-pated of me. I cannot believe I forgot.” Anne pressed her fingers to her lips, a little smile peeking out from behind them.

  “Do you mean to tell me, there is a guest due to arrive at Rosings Park, and we will not be there to receive her?” Aunt Catherine’s nostrils flared, rather like an angry bull.

  “It does look that way, but wait, what is the date?”

  “The sixth of December.”

  “Oh, perhaps then, there is time. As I recall, her family’s seat is on the far west side of Derbyshire. They might not have left yet.”

  “Those Giffords?” Fitzwilliam shared a wide-eyed glance with Darcy. They were a large, old, landed, and very wealthy family.

  “You know of them?” Anne bounced on the sofa. “Then perhaps you will help me persuade Darcy.”

  “Persuade me of what?” Darcy leaned his elbow on the chair’s arm and braced his chin in his hand.

  “Well, I cannot rescind my invitation, that would be awful, and she would be so disappointed. Pray, allow me to invite her to come to Pemberley for Christmastide with all of us. We will be such a merry party.”

  Darcy’s jaw dropped; he looked at Elizabeth and Georgiana. Elizabeth stammered something unintelligible.

  “I … I think … perhaps it might be a good idea for Anne to have her friend here. They might be able to help you, Elizabeth, with all that must be done for the ball.” Georgiana wrung her hands in her lap.

  “A ball? You had not told me.” Anne grabbed Georgiana’s hands.

  “We are having a fancy-dress ball on Twelfth Night for Georgiana’s coming out.” Darcy’s voice carried a low warning note.

  Anne blinked several times. Perhaps she heard it for what it was. “How utterly delightful. I am so excited to be able to be here for your very special day. Miss Gifford and I can be so very helpful to you. Elizabeth. I promise—I will do everything in my power to ensure that Georgiana’s ball is perfect for her in every way, and I know Miss Gifford will feel the same.” Something in her voice changed very subtly; a note of sincerity perhaps?

  “Do you need more help? I thought you said you felt it all was in order already.” Darcy looked at Elizabeth, shrugging. She twitched her head, eyes wide and weary.

  “I suppose if you are quite comfortable with the idea of another young lady joining our house party—” Elizabeth shrugged.

  Anne clapped softly. “Thank you, my dearest cousin! I promise my friend will be no trouble to you at all.”

  “And why has no one asked my opinion on the matter?” Lady Catherine folded her arms over her chest.

  Elizabeth rose. “It seems the matter is quite settled. I shall go and inform Mrs. Reynolds to expect more guests.” She hurried from the room, too wise to ignore a convenient excuse for escape.

  Anne cradled her teacup in her hands and leaned back. “I must tell you all about Miss Gifford.”

  Anne rattled on about her friend for nearly an hour. In that time, her audience dwindled until only she and Fitzwilliam remained.

  “Well, that was a hand well-played.” He topped off his brandy and added a little to Anne’s tea cup. She liked her ‘French cream,’ despite her mother’s disapproval.

  “Whatever do you mean?” She stirred her doctored tea and took a sip, smiling.

  “I am astonished you have actually done it.”

  “We talked about it long enough, did we not?”

  He leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “But it was always a joke, never something meant to be done seriously.”

  “What choice have I? She has decided to marry me off to … to whoever pleases her. I can be certain anyone who would please her would never please me.”

  “While I cannot disagree, you could have at least warned me of your plan.”

  “Could I? What would you have done?” She cradled her teacup in her hands and stared into it.

  “Have I not always helped you?”

  “There was no time, honestly. It seems I was at home less than a fortnight before Mother stormed into the morning room declaring ‘No de Bourgh is ever going to have Rosings Park. We are leaving this instant!’ And so, we were off to Pemberley without time to let you or anyone else know.”

  For anyone else, it sounded far-fetched, but for Aunt Catherine, it was entirely possible. “She mentioned something about the de Bourghs to Darcy and I. Do you know of her prejudice against your father’s people?”

  Anne leaned back and stared at the ceiling, sighing with the weight of the world. “You know how Mother holds a grudge. Once offended she cannot let it go—”

  “Unless she sees you can be of use to her, like Darcy is to her now, then apparently she can.”

  “But under normal circumstances, she cannot. As I understand, when my parents’ marriage articles were written, there was some contention between the families as to what was to be settled upon the couple. The Matlock side was far more generous than the de Bourghs were and Mother took it as a personal offense and statement about her worth and value. All my life she has called them ‘the cheap de Bourgh skinflints’ who do not appreciate the true value of anything. We have always been estranged from them.”

  “You are concerned she is in a hurry to marry you off to protect Rosings from the de Bourghs?” Fitzwilliam scraped hi
s palm along his stubbled cheek.

  “She does not tend to be patient with such things. I found a list on her desk of potential young men, some crossed out with notes of their flaws—flaws like an independent disposition. What am I to do?” She pitched forward and caught her face in her hands.

  He sat beside her and laid an arm over her shoulder.

  “You have always been my friend, Fitzwilliam, pray help me now.”

  “What do you want from me?”

  “I am not sure yet, just be here for me when I need you.” She leaned her head on his shoulder.

  Poor girl sounded so very small and lost. “You know I will. I always have.”

  ∞∞∞

  The next morning Elizabeth found Darcy hunched over a cup of coffee and his newspaper in the cheerful blue morning room. He sat in an unusual place—his back to the windows, facing the doorway, as though hoping to avoid being surprised by anyone entering the room. Who knew Lady Catherine—or was it Anne— had such power to disturb his equanimity even in his own home?

  He looked up, a relieved smile lifting his lips, and rose to pull out a chair beside him. “Would you join me?”

  “It is rather pleasing to have the room to ourselves, is it not?” She sat beside him.

  He folded his paper and set it aside. “I do hope that Anne has not suddenly become an early riser amongst all her other transformations.”

  “As late as she rattled on last night, I can hardly imagine she will be up much before noon. This is such an odd turn of events. I hardly know what to make of it.”

  “I do not understand how Anne has become such a creature! As entirely un-Anne-like as anyone might imagine.” He picked up his coffee cup and cradled it between his hands.

  “She seemed quite proud of the transformation when she was telling me about her time in Bath yesterday.” Elizabeth tried to sound nonchalant as she reached for her sewing basket. It felt unnatural to sit in this room without a piece of sewing in her hands, and there was so much to be sewn, especially in this season.

  “It seems there was far more going on with Anne than any of us thought. You look troubled, what is bothering you?”

  She rubbed her knuckle along her lower lip. “I do not know how much stock to put into Anne’s promises. Yesterday evening, she vowed that she would do everything to make Georgiana’s ball perfect. I would very much like to believe her, but …”

  He returned his cup to its saucer with a soft clink. “I cannot believe her so mean-spirited—at least not toward Georgiana—that she would intentionally do anything to ruin the event.”

  “Oh, my love.” She touched his face gently, and he smiled. “How little you know about young ladies.”

  “Perhaps you should inform me.”

  “A girl’s come out should be special and just about her. It is her night to be the center of attention and not share it with anyone else. After last night, I fear Anne will try to upstage your sister, knowingly or not—”

  “You did not have a proper come out, did you?”

  Elizabeth sighed and ducked her face away. This was not a subject anyone had ever broached with her before.

  “That makes this ball very important to you—”

  “Are you speaking of the Twelfth Night ball?” Lady Catherine swept in, skirts swishing, overdressed for the morning. She deposited herself at the opposite side of the table where she might preside over the conversation. “Of course, it is very important. I suppose making the event Georgiana’s come out makes a certain amount of sense, but I think it would be better—”

  “The invitations have been sent. There is no changing it now.” Darcy’s words were low and slow—a tone that should have been a warning.

  “Well I wish you had consulted with me before making such a very important decision for dear Georgiana.” Apparently, Lady Catherine did not heed warnings.

  “Aunt Matlock thought it a very good idea.” Darcy leaned forward on his elbows.

  Lady Catherine sneered. “So, you consulted her, did you?”

  “Not precisely, Lady Catherine. She was trying to decide whether to hold a ball on Twelfth Night and asked our plans,” Elizabeth forced her voice into something soft and sweet. The effort burned her throat.

  Lady Catherine’s brows rose, and she pounced like a bird of prey. “Then there is no question! You must allow me to review your plans, menus, decorations for the ball. Your guest will have high expectations, and you must not disappoint them.”

  Elizabeth gritted her teeth. “I appreciate your kind offer, but Lady Anne left very detailed notes in her household books. We are adhering very closely to a plan for a fancy-dress ball—”

  “But how long ago was that? I insist you permit me to— assist you with this ball.”

  At least she did not actually say ‘take over’ even though that was clearly what she was thinking.

  “You are talking about the ball?” Anne appeared at the door, Georgiana peeking over her shoulder. “Oh, what a delightful subject for breakfast!”

  How was it they were up already?

  Anne sat beside Elizabeth—the farthest seat from her mother— and Georgiana beside her. Mrs. Reynolds and a maid slipped in and set up breakfast on the sideboard. The room filled with scents of hot breads, cold meats and chocolate.

  “Anne and I were talking about her fancy dress for the that night.” Georgiana glanced at Elizabeth as though for approval.

  “It is a shame you have already sent out the invitations.” Lady Catherine murmured, back turned, as she poured herself a cup of chocolate. “Fancy dress can be so undignified for such an important occasion.”

  “Fancy dress is a great deal of fun.” Anne pursed her lips in a pretty, practiced pout.

  “Which is appropriate for Twelfth Night I suppose, but not for a coming out.” Lady Catherine glowered at Anne.

  For a brief moment it looked as though Anne might stick her tongue out at her mother. Thankfully she withheld the impulse, but her face colored with the effort.

  “Anne has no fancy dress for the ball.” Georgiana glanced from Darcy to Elizabeth. “We were wondering … that is we hoped … that we might go into town this morning and visit the haberdasher and the linen draper—”

  “Please, may we cousin?” Anne clasped her hands before her chest. “We already have some very good ideas. It would be such fun to work them out with Georgiana.”

  Lady Catherine sat up very straight and knocked on the table with her knuckles. “What are you talking about? Certainly not. What could you know about a proper fancy dress? You will make a fool of yourself. I will manage it for you.”

  Anne turned her shoulder on her mother, rather pointedly. Had that been in public, it would have been considered a cut. “Perhaps Elizabeth will help us? I am certain she can determine what is good and proper for me to wear. Pray, Elizabeth, will you come to town with us and help?”

  “She has a prior commitment here. We are to review the plans for the ball.” Lady Catherine leaned forward, struggling to catch Anne’s gaze.

  “But why? Elizabeth has everything in order.” Georgiana balled the edge of the tablecloth in her hands.

  “Do not contradict me!” Lady Catherine all but snarled.

  Enough was enough. “Of course, I think it would be lovely to spend some time with both of you. Pray excuse me while I call for the carriage and dress for going out.” Elizabeth slipped out, with a quick backward glance at Darcy.

  His left eye twitched just the barest bit. He approved, which was a very good thing indeed, considering that even if he did not, she would probably still take the opportunity to escape that aggravating, overbearing woman.

  Lady Catherine’s demands were not wholly unexpected, she was after all the same person she had been in Kent, obligated to manage everything within her reach. But now that a mistress was in place, and Pemberley was no longer in her reach, she needed to be taught her proper place, gently but firmly and undeniably.

  ∞∞∞

  An hour late
r, Elizabeth met Georgiana and Anne in the vestibule. They were laughing and chattering—no Anne was chattering, Georgiana was listening—much like Lydia and Kitty about to go into Meryton. It was good to see Georgiana seem so happy—not vaguely miserable the way she looked when Lady Catherine entered a room. Perhaps Anne was better company for her than Elizabeth had expected.

  The trip into town was short, very short. As Miss Bennet, she would have happily walked the distance and much farther, but it was unseemly for Mrs. Darcy. It was one of the things she truly missed from her days as a simple Miss Bennet.

  The carriage let them off at the top of the street, near the linen drapers.

  “So then, you said you already had a notion of how you would like to dress for the ball?” Elizabeth held her breath. What were the chances that Anne was planning to dress as an opera dancer or a courtesan?

  “Oh, yes!” Georgiana bobbed on her toes, clapping softly. “It is such a good idea. I know you will heartily approve. Anne wishes to be a phoenix.”

  “What an interesting choice.” And perhaps a very auspicious one. “How do you intend to create it?”

  “Mother insisted I bring my red silk ball gown—just in case there would be an opportunity to wear it. I think that is why she is opposed to fancy dress. She is very fond of that gown. Still though, I can wear it. I thought if I could find black silk to sew in puffs around the bottom to look like coals,” Anne mimicked the effect with her hands, “then the red dress above, a cape of yellow stuff—”

  “And a red bird’s mask with lovely red feathers and sparkly bits of some sort. Perhaps you might wear the feathers in your hair rather than on the mask, though.” Georgiana chewed her knuckle as she often did while thinking. “What do you think? Is it a good idea?”

  While it might have been fun to keep them in suspense, Elizabeth could not help but smile. “Yes, I like it very much. What is more, I think it is quite doable, and unique. I remember one of the local shops had masks—I do not recall if there were any bird masks, but even a plain one would give us a good start in creating what you have described.”