From Admiration to Matrimony

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From Admiration to Matrimony Page 14

by APRIL FLOYD


  Charlotte blinked and bit her bottom lip. Of course the fancy lady from Town would not remember having met her. Caroline looked at her expectantly before releasing a dramatic sigh.

  “Do not stand about as a scullery maid for heaven’s sake. What do you know of Miss de Bourgh?”

  Charlotte smiled at her curiosity and linked their arms as though they were good friends. Caroline meant to pull away and stride off to the house but allowed it only because she was desperate to know more about this unusual invitation to Rosings.

  “Miss de Bourgh has gone to Pemberley for the winter but her mother has called her home again. She shall arrive in but a few days with her betrothed, Viscount Henry Amestrey.”

  Caroline’s spirit lifted at this news. A Viscount indeed! A handsome one she hoped, for Rosings was decidedly empty of interesting companions.

  As the two women approached the house, Caroline removed her arm from Charlotte’s too familiar hold and walked ahead as though she were in a great hurry. She now had bits of intelligence with which to engage her hostess and would waste no time in putting questions to Lady Catherine.

  Charlotte followed along, shaking her head at the fancy sister of Charles and Jane Bingley.

  Lizzy had never gotten on with the woman and Charlotte could clearly see why. Yet, there was little in the way of companionship at Hunsford. She would be pleased to sit with someone other than her husband’s patroness each day, even if that someone was as unkind as could be.

  Caroline entered Rosings without a glance over her shoulder to see whether Mrs. Collins followed and asked the butler if her ladyship had come down again. He nodded silently and arched a brow towards the parlor.

  Admiring herself in the looking glass that hung above a wide cherry wood console, Caroline Bingley ignored Charlotte Collins as she gained the entryway and stood just behind her over her right shoulder.

  The poor soul was so very plain and Caroline almost allowed a moment of pity to enter her heart. The paleness of her skin and the skittish look in her eyes when unguarded served as a warning sign but Miss Bingley was in no mood to aid a woman so wholly unconnected in this house.

  She left Charlotte standing in the entry and hurried to the parlor, eager to speak with Lady Catherine.

  Charlotte repeated Caroline’s actions, glancing in the mirror before quickly looking away. Gone was the bloom of her youth, replaced by care and worry. Though she was a married woman with a secure future, Charlotte had allowed the loneliness of her situation to steal her joy.

  That might all change with Miss Bingley present and Miss de Bourgh to return soon. She ran her hands down the front of her skirts and checked the looking glass once more to be certain she was presentable.

  Lady Catherine sighed in irritation when Caroline Bingley entered the room followed by the bowing parson’s wife. Rosings would be unbearable once her daughter arrived.

  But she had little choice in the matter did she wish to keep Anne at Rosings and release her from the Viscount’s attentions. With her master plan in mind, she smiled as warmly as a predator is able and welcomed her guests.

  “Miss Bingley, Mrs. Collins, please do join me.”

  Caroline Bingley smiled and sat. She turned to Charlotte. “I met your parson’s wife in the gardens, she informed me that Miss Anne shall be home in but a few days. How lovely!”

  Lady Catherine feigned joy at the news, but Charlotte could see the displeasure in her eyes. Why would a mother be unhappy to welcome her daughter home again? Charlotte did not have long to wait for her answer.

  “She shall be here soon, indeed. But she brings along a Viscount who is said to have offered for her hand How that might be greatly puzzles me since my thoughts on the matter have never been sought.”

  Lady Catherine raised a brow as Caroline Bingley gave her opinion. “Why, a man as situated and with such connections must surely know to approach you, Lady Catherine, with such a request. How unusual a situation.”

  Caroline smiled sweetly, her mind whirring through the possibilities of a scandal at Rosings that had been kept quiet. What a delicious thought! She could write Louisa of the drama as it played out before her.

  Lady Catherine turned her attention to Charlotte, her eyes cold and sharp as flint. “Mrs. Collins, why have you come to visit so early in the day? I shall not provide more money for your husband than is his due.”

  Charlotte’s cheeks flushed a deep red before all the color drained from her face. She looked down at the floor and fought the tears forming in her eyes. She breathed deeply and gathered her courage.

  “No, your ladyship, I do not come seeking money nor any other thing from you. My husband mentioned you were unwell. I came to find if I might offer comfort of a sort, seeing Miss Anne has not yet arrived.”

  Lady Catherine cocked her head as if trying to figure out the timid mouse before her. It was no use, the young woman had not a spark of life to her. “As you can plainly see, Mrs. Collins, I am quite well. And I have a guest to attend. You may leave.”

  Charlotte nodded to the two women though they barely noticed her departure. She lingered once past the doors for their voices carried as their conversation continued.

  Lady Catherine’s words kept her feet from moving away. “Miss Bingley, make no mistake, I have brought you here to be a hindrance to my daughter’s plan to marry this viscount she fancies.”

  Caroline Bingley gasped, a hand moving to her throat.

  Lady Catherine snorted her disbelief and chided the young woman before her. “It is a well-known fact you are an incorrigible flirt and a desperate woman. Your season has come and gone and yet there is no offer for your hand. How long shall your brother keep you?”

  Caroline bristled at the direct manner of her host and began to speak but was silenced by a wave of the imperious woman’s hand.

  “I do not wish to discuss your methods, Miss Bingley, only to employ your talents to aid me in the recovery of my daughter. You will throw yourself at the viscount while I keep Anne by my side with a feigned illness. If you are able to stir doubt in my daughter’s heart and mind, you shall be handsomely rewarded.”

  Caroline’s smile at these words did not endear her to Lady Catherine but only signaled she’d chosen the exact woman for the task at hand.

  “I would expect to be rewarded even should I fail, Lady Catherine. You wouldn’t want Miss Anne to know of your plan, I wager.”

  Charlotte gasped and covered her mouth, horrified by the cunning of Lady Catherine and the evil Caroline Bingley.

  Chapter 24

  Anne de Bourgh stepped from her beloved’s carriage as footmen bustled about removing trunks. She stood in the shadow of Henry Amestrey and shielded her eyes from the glare of the noonday sun.

  The estate had caught her breath as they approached but the main house held her transfixed. Dare she say it was as grand as Pemberley?

  A sweeping drive with a large fountain led to the ornate double front doors that stood twice as tall as Anne herself and wide enough to allow two couples to enter abreast.

  Henry Amestrey was such an appealing man, both in humor and appearance, and now to stand before his home Anne breathed deeply to avoid any unfortunate swooning on her part. To a young woman accustomed to homes such as Pemberley and Rosings, one would imagine her heart would not race as it did.

  Henry took her arm and though she felt the urge in him to hurry to the doors and greet his parents, he maintained an easy gait. She smiled up at him and trembled at the love she found shining in his eyes.

  Her welcome here would bolster her spirit in preparing for Rosings. She smiled and turned her thoughts to proper introductions as she was presented to his parents.

  “Mother, Father, this is Miss Anne de Bourgh of Rosings Park in Kent,” he said with a catch in his voice that melted Anne’s heart.

  She met his mother’s eyes and greeted her shyly. “Duchess, how lovely to meet you. Henry has told me countless stories until I feel as though we’ve met before.”
/>   The Duchess of Ayr took her future daughter’s hand and left the men standing by the doors, much to her son’s delight. He’d known his mother would react thus and was pleased at the reception.

  Henry Amestrey breathed deeply to regulate his emotions and turned to his father. The Duke of Ayr grasped his hand tightly, pulling him forward and whispered quietly with much amusement. “Your mother has always wished for a daughter as lovely as your Anne. The fact that she is the daughter of Lady Catherine de Bourgh took some convincing on my part, but your mother is eager to give the young woman a chance.”

  Henry followed his father inside, their conversation moving to matters of the estate and where Henry and Anne might live once they were wed.

  Henry halted just inside the entry, looking about. “Are my brothers not home then?”

  The Duke sighed and urged him forward. “Edward is in Town to rescue James, at the moment. He has chosen His Majesty’s Navy on the grounds of its success in war. He claims the army is nothing more than philandering and promenading. How he shall be persuaded to return home remains a great mystery.”

  In the parlor, Anne glanced about shyly. Her welcome from the Duchess not wholly unexpected, yet heartening with the specter of Rosings haunting her steps.

  She sat with Henry’s mother and spoke of Pemberley and the Darcy family. Having lived a solitary life at Rosings, without the benefit of teas, balls, and the gossip of Town, Anne worried her quiet manner might offend her future family but came to find the Duchess was of a like mind.

  “I must say my Henry has chosen well. I never dreamed he might find such a jewel but his letters have assured me you are all he has ever wished in a woman.”

  Anne clasped her hands in her lap and attempted to hide her surprise. A young man who confided such in his mother? It was unheard of and foreign to her, that relationship with a parent, and yet she longed for a family where a mother and son spoke confidentially of matters of the heart.

  The Duchess led Anne on a tour of the home and grounds until she was well and truly tired. She thought of her walks with Elizabeth, her heart giving a twist of longing for Pemberley, grateful for the stamina they now provided.

  Returning to the house, they parted and Anne rested in her room for a time before dressing for dinner. She was pleased to find the Duchess in the parlor. They sat happily discussing Henry’s boyhood. Before long, the men joined them and the party entered the dining room for the evening meal. Anne delighted in the conversation around her and forgot completely of the trials to come.

  When at last they all retired, after cards and music in the salon, Anne de Bourgh rested her head easily upon her pillow. Her mind was free of worry within the walls of her future family’s estate.

  Elizabeth Darcy sat before the fireplace in her room, reading a passage from her favorite book before she retired for the night. Her eyes would not remain upon the page and soon she was pacing, her thoughts with Anne and Henry.

  They had been gone but a short time and yet it seemed much longer since the tearful farewells. She hoped to receive a letter from Rosings as soon as Anne was able to write.

  Tomorrow she would leave her family at Pemberley and go to Brambling for a bit of peace. Kitty and Lydia, along with Mrs. Bennet, had been most disappointed when the young gentlemen callers had not made offers as expected.

  Elizabeth halted her step at a knock upon her door and smiled brightly when her husband entered the room. He had come later than was his custom this evening and she wondered at his appearance. He ran a hand through his hair and sighed unhappily.

  “I have put it off as long as I might, but I must return to London for a time, my love,” he said and stepped forward to catch her as she hurried into his arms.

  The pout on her face made him smile and he kissed the tip of her nose. “You shall miss me then?” he asked as she pressed against him and he noticed the roundness of her middle between them.

  Elizabeth lifted her gaze and gently smoothed the hair at his temple. “I should travel to London with you if my family did not linger at Pemberley. As it is, I would not leave your mother alone to manage them.”

  Mr. Darcy kissed her lips tenderly, a growl issuing from his throat. His hands caressed her back and Elizabeth moaned at the exquisite sensation before breaking their kiss to take his hands.

  She led him to a seat by the window and looked out over the wide expanse of lawn cast in shadows by the bright moon above.

  Mr. Darcy noted the lines of worry upon his beloved’s face and pulled her close, his hands finding the spot on her back that begged for his attention. Elizabeth relaxed against him, her eyes closing in rapture at his touch.

  “Did I know your hands could soothe me so, I might have refused to leave Pemberley all those months ago when my father demanded my return to Longbourn.”

  Mr. Darcy held her then, his arms strong and warm, her center of the universe.

  “We cannot change the past, my love, but we might take better care in the future. Do not worry for Anne. Henry will see that she returns to us and mother shall keep you busy preparing for their wedding.”

  Elizabeth wondered at his thorough understanding of her heart’s wishes. He had known she must speak with her father, he was ever at hand when she wished to walk the grounds alone with him, and now he knew the words to reassure her of Anne’s happiness.

  “Mr. Darcy,” she said, turning to gaze into his eyes, “shall we retire? I would have your arms about me through the night.”

  He stood and helped her from her seat, holding her firmly against his body. “Would be my pleasure, indeed, Mrs. Darcy.”

  He kissed her again and led her to the bed, his eyes full of love and longing for his Elizabeth. Leaving for London in the morning would be difficult, but the sweet hours before dawn beckoned with the promise of marital bliss.

  Chapter 25

  As the carriage pulled away the next morning, Anne de Bourgh leaned out of the window eager to keep the Duke and Duchess in sight until her conveyance moved further down the graveled drive. Henry sat across from her and leaned forward to take her hand.

  “We shall see them again when we return to Pemberley. Mother will likely set her maids to work as soon as we are out of sight. The number of trunks she will bring along to our wedding will give you pause.”

  Anne smiled in spite of the tears she wished to shed. She decided her memories of the Duke and Duchess of Ayr should remain untainted by sadness and doubt. She breathed deeply and focused on the joy in Henry’s eyes.

  “She may bring all that she wishes and I shall write Elizabeth to warn her. Though I believe Lady Anne will understand as her own wardrobe is immense.”

  Henry wished the maid was riding in another carriage as he longed to hold Anne in his arms and shield her from the approaching cloud of Rosings. He admired the brave face she wore, but his eyes did not miss the anxious moments that passed fleetingly from her countenance when in the company of others.

  “We shall see Rosings on the morrow unless you would care to delay our arrival?”

  Anne contemplated the tempting offer but shook her head. “I am all that is anxious, Henry, and I must not prolong the agony. I am prepared to present you to my mother and to tend her in her illness. And then return to Pemberley to become your wife.”

  Henry threw propriety to the four winds and the maid obligingly turned her head as he took Anne’s small hand in his own. He removed her glove and pressed the back of her hand gently to his lips. “My heart does thrill to hear those words, my love. My name shall shield and protect you all your days. You are mine and I am yours.”

  Anne wished for nothing more than to remain at the side of this man. He was everything to her, every wish her heart whispered in the lonely years gone before. Every hope for a happy family in her future life. Every dream of a true love found in spite of her isolation.

  Mr. Darcy left for London and Elizabeth struggled to remain pleasant with her sisters at the breakfast table. Her saving grace was the coming
visit to Brambling. She thought of staying there the night, but did not wish to leave Lady Anne alone with her mother and sisters for too long.

  She left her family to their chatter and the noise of plates and silver and called for her spencer. She would walk in the garden before calling the carriage to deliver her to Brambling. A footman met her as she stepped out into the weak sunlight and handed her an express. Her eyes filled with doubt and when she saw Anne’s hand upon the paper, she held onto the solid frame of the front door.

  They were surely not arrived at Rosings yet? She dismissed the footman but he left slowly, worried for his mistress. Elizabeth leaned against the door and opened the letter slowly.

  Dearest Lizzy,

  First, allow me to assure you nothing is the matter. Our journey has been most uneventful, except for our time spent with the Duke and Duchess of Ayr, Henry’s parents.

  I sent this express because I know you are likely going mad for word of our trip. Please forgive me if I caused you a moment’s worry.

  We shall arrive at Rosings in a day’s time and I find whilst I am filled with dread, I am not afraid. Henry has been amazing at keeping my spirits up and the maid from Pemberley is wonderful. I would keep her if William agrees.

  Please do not allow my aunt to plan a huge event for my wedding. I know she shall try, but I depend upon you to make her see the beauty of simplicity. Write me, my dear. Your letters shall bear me up in troubled times.

  Love,

  Anne

  Elizabeth released her breath and hurried to the gardens, her friend’s letter in her pocket. She was grateful Anne had thought to send the express, for her nerves were worn from worry over the young woman’s return to Rosings.

  She walked about the garden, recalling Anne’s wish to marry near Georgiana’s plot of yellow flowers. Hurrying along, lest she was late to Brambling, Elizabeth sought the small garden to sit in peace and think of Georgiana Darcy.

 

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