On one particular day, a pleasantly warm sunny day, Clarissa suddenly threw down her parasol.
“Oh, how I love daisies,” she cried, and flopped down onto to the ground. “I cannot help it. I have longed to sit among them for days! You do not know how hard it has been to restrain myself.”
Georgiana hovered above her. She wondered how wet the ground was, worried about grass stains, and considered whether they were within sight of the house.
“Come on, Georgiana,” said Clarissa. “I thought you wanted to make some changes. Let us sit and make daisy chains, like little children. You too, Anne. How could the two of you possibly resist it?”
Anne hesitated. Then, pulling away one of her shawls, she arranged it carefully on the ground.
“You can sit next to me, Georgiana,” she said. “That way we can protect our clothing. We need not be quite as reckless as Clarissa here.”
Georgiana felt intensely annoyed with herself. Her condition must be dire if even Anne was willing to do something she hesitated about! If she did not start soon, how could she change enough before the beginning of the Season?
So, tossing all uncertainty behind her, she sat on the shawl offered by Anne.
It was strange how sitting on the ground gave one a different perspective. She ran her hands through the blades of grass, allowing the tips to tickle her palm. She followed the progress of a beetle as it laboured through the grass as if through a forest of tall trees and clambered over a bent blade with as much difficulty as a huge fallen trunk. She picked a buttercup and cradled it in her hand, admiring the soft yellow petals and wondering that something so diminutive could stand out so clearly from a distance.
Clarissa held up three daisies linked together. “Let’s see who can make the longest chain,” she challenged.
Soon the three young women were engaged in the sustained effort of making daisy chains. They made bracelets for their arms and crowns for their heads and necklaces to adorn their necks, and were quite a sight when, some time later, they walked back to the house, carrying the springtime inside with them.
***
Henceforth, Anne’s behaviour altered in small ways. She did not stray far from the protection of the house, nor did she honour the Darcy cousins with any special confidences, but she went out unaccompanied more and more often. She liked to walk in a small copse behind the house and was seen heading in that direction at least once or twice a day.
Georgiana felt that they had accomplished a great deal by helping her gain a little independence. Clarissa disagreed, however, for it was not so very remarkable that a twenty-nine-year-old woman should wish to walk in her very own park. She still did not go out alone on her little phaeton and ponies—Mrs Jenkinson was always with her.
When Georgiana reminded her that Anne was at least able now to escape the latter’s surveillance, Clarissa shook her head. Her suspicions of Lady Catherine remained as strong as ever.
“How are we to know that this is not a trick on the part of Lady Catherine? She may well be relaxing her watch over Anne simply to give us the illusion of Anne’s freedom. It is very likely that, the moment we leave, Anne will be back under the thumb of her keeper.”
But Georgiana, who had known Anne longer than her cousin, could sense something different about her, a new sense of purpose that had not been there before.
“I think you are taking too pessimistic a view of things, Clarissa. I am sure that Anne is different, and if so, it is due to you, and I thank you for it. Have you not noticed there is more of a spring to her step and that she is less inclined to retreat to the corner of the room? Why yesterday she even sustained a short conversation with Fitzwilliam and Elizabeth.”
“Yes, perhaps you are right. Still, she moves far too slowly for one who is so young, and she has not given up a single one of her shawls yet, nor her muff.”
“But if she is ill, how can she do so? You are expecting far too much too quickly. The kind of changes you are looking for cannot be accomplished in a few weeks or even in a few months.”
Clarissa frowned. “You may be right. I do not know what I expect to tell the truth. I am too carried away by my hopes for her.”
Georgiana remembered Clarissa’s characterization of herself as likely to overdo things.
“You must check yourself, otherwise you will go too far, and she will retreat back into her old habits,” said Georgiana. “You should be content that you have brought about the beginnings of change at least. That alone should be enough.”
Georgiana, however, was not so serene about the changes that she wished to happen to her. She could hardly wait to go to London now, for she was impatient to acquire a new and more vibrant wardrobe. She had acquired an aversion to all her old clothes and now wandered how she could possibly have agreed to wear them in the first place.
They were due to leave for London in ten days. Georgiana tried to convince her brother to leave a few days earlier, pointing out that they had very little time in which to prepare for her come-out, for it was the beginning of May, and the Season had already started. Darcy merely smiled and said he was glad she was finally showing some interest in the Season, but that removing themselves early would only create ill feeling with Lady Catherine, who would take it as a slight. She expected them to stay six weeks, and they would. He reminded her—again, as if anyone could possibly forget—that it was Lady Catherine who had made the effort to set aside her pride and to receive her new nephew into the family after their estrangement.
Appealing to Elizabeth did not avail her either, for her sister had some notion of the country air being better for a baby than that of London and preferred to keep him away from London as long as she possibly could. As if a few days more or less would matter!
So—deprived of the chance to acquire new clothing—she spent a great deal of time in her room, trying out different expressions in the mirror and struggling to acquire one similar to Clarissa’s, which somehow managed to convey a sense of practised ennui with keen interest. It proved quite impossible to replicate.
She had moments of intense panic too. It would seem to her then, suddenly, that the Season was all too close and that she needed far more time—a whole other year, really—to prepare herself if she was to avoid presenting herself as a tedious nobody.
And throughout, no matter what her disposition was, she continued to hear those words in her head—dull as ditchwater—and to picture the brief flash of pity on Mr Gatley’s face when he realised that she had overheard them.
***
The next afternoon all the ladies except Lady Catherine walked together to Hunsford parsonage to visit Charlotte Collins, wife of the worthy vicar and an old friend of Elizabeth’s. Anne did not go with them all the way. She picked a bench in an elevated location that gave her a view of the parsonage in the distance and informed them that she would meet them again when their visit was over.
When they returned, however, Anne was not at their agreed meeting place. Surprised, they stood about, wondering if she could have returned to the house without them.
They had just concluded that this must be what had happened when Anne reappeared, breathing heavily as she struggled to climb to where they were standing.
“I am sorry,” she said. “I grew tired of sitting and thought I would visit the small pond behind those trees over there. I used to wade in it when I was a child.” She smiled as she met with incredulous looks from Caroline and Elizabeth. “Hard to believe, is it not, that I used to do such things? But I assure you, I did. Anyway, when it came time for me to return, I found I was too tired to hurry up the hill. You see the results.”
“Then lean on me,” said Elizabeth. “That will surely make it easier for you to walk back.”
Anne objected that she only needed to catch her breath and then she would have no difficulty walking again. This proved to be true, for she kept up easily with them as t
hey meandered slowly towards the house.
They arrived there just in time to see an unexpected rider dismount and enter the building.
“I wonder who it could be,” said Clarissa.
“It looks like Colonel Fitzwilliam,” remarked Elizabeth.
Anne confirmed that possibility. “My mother has been expecting him these three days,” she said.
Georgiana was surprised that Lady Catherine had said nothing of the visit.
As they entered, they found Colonel Fitzwilliam speaking to Darcy, who had come out into the hallway to greet his cousin warmly.
“What news of Napoleon?” he was saying.
Lady Catherine’s voice arose from the drawing room. “Let us wait to hear the news until my nephew has had a chance to sit,” said Lady Catherine.
Elizabeth held out her hand and greeted him cordially as well. Robert Darcy stepped into the hallway at this point and came to stand at Caroline’s side. Colonel Fitzwilliam bowed formally to them both, and they responded with equal politeness. Georgiana was surprised at the sudden tension between them, particularly when Robert was in general very friendly.
To Georgiana, however, he was his usual self, and she found herself more pleased to see him than she expected.
Clarissa, who was the only one who did not know him, eyed him curiously when he was introduced to her and asked him one or two questions, to which he responded pleasantly enough.
They all moved into the drawing room where, as expected, Lady Catherine was seated in her usual chair.
“So this is the famous Colonel,” said Clarissa, nudging Georgiana in the ribs. “He is not very remarkable in looks, but he seems nice enough. I say you should marry him.”
Georgiana frowned. “I have no intention of marrying him, thank you.”
Clarissa grinned. “Why ever not? Think of all that money staying in the family. You must consider the future of the Darcys.”
“Stop it, Clarissa,” said Georgiana as Colonel Fitzwilliam turned his eyes in their direction. “He might hear you.”
Lady Catherine ordered tea and refreshments, adding, with a quelling glance at Clarissa, that they also required a single cup of coffee.
“Miss Darcy is from America. She does not drink tea,” she said in explanation to Colonel Fitzwilliam.
Colonel Fitzwilliam, who knew nothing about Clarissa, replied that one could not expect the whole world to like tea and that coffee had its advantages.
“It seems the whole town of Boston has reached that conclusion,” said Lady Catherine. “They destroyed all their supplies of tea.” She chuckled, clearly thinking this utterly absurd.
Georgiana could tell Clarissa was getting ready to dispute this statement. She pinched her cousin on the arm to distract her.
“I believe you misunderstood, Lady Catherine,” said Robert calmly. “The Bostonians only object to tea provided by the British. We are perfectly happy to drink it if is supplied by our own ships.”
Lady Catherine regarded him as though an insect had suddenly decided to stand up and speak.
“Well, there are no American ships now to bring you your supply here,” she said. “But I suppose Mrs Darcy has cured you of these strange notions by now.”
It was Caroline’s turn now to look indignant.
“You must tell me the latest news of Napoleon, Fitzwilliam,” said Darcy quickly, hoping to avert a skirmish.
Fortunately, Colonel Fitzwilliam answered readily. “News out of France is scarce, with much of it conjecture. Those fools Whitbread and Ridgely are agitating in parliament and are still determined to prevent us from going to war, but they won’t succeed. Mr Whitbread, I heard, was hissed when he rose to speak. The general consensus is that a British army will have to be assembled—perhaps in Brussels—under the command of Wellington. My regiment may possibly be sent over, which is why I came here to see everyone before leaving.”
Georgiana did not like the sound of those words. They held an ominous tone. She wanted to ask him if he really thought there was any danger of Napoleon invading Brussels, but Lady Catherine jutted in before her.
“We are very happy that you have done so, for I have been meaning to speak to you about something important before you leave. In fact, I was planning to send you a letter. But then you wrote to tell me you were coming, and I did not have to do it.”
The tea things were brought in, and the conversation was postponed until everyone had been served.
“If you are planning to go off to war, then there is something urgent that needs to be resolved,” continued her ladyship. “I have thought the matter over and reached a decision.”
Colonel Fitzwilliam, who was used to his aunt’s pronouncements, continued to sip his tea and gave her his polite attention, hoping to be able to return to the subject of Napoleon very quickly.
“I had originally thought Georgiana would make you a good wife. But I have since realised that she is too young and too raw to be suitable for you. Besides, you are one of her guardians, and that creates some awkwardness. Someone closer to your age will do better. I have, therefore, decided, after a great deal of thought, that I will bestow Anne’s hand on you in marriage. I think it would be best for everyone if we settle everything now, before you leave. I can arrange matters with Mr Collins. You need not wait for the bans to be called.”
Colonel Fitzwilliam choked on his tea. In the midst of concern over his welfare, pats on the back, and offered handkerchiefs, nobody thought to look at Anne.
With the crisis over, however, all eyes turned to Anne, who had stood up, and, with a white face, wrapped her shawls about her, and, for once brushing aside the hovering Mrs Jenkinson, left the room with small quick steps, murmuring something about being suddenly taken ill.
General dismay greeted Anne’s reaction to Lady Catherine’s announcement. Clarissa rose to follow her out of the room, but her ladyship stopped her in her tracks.
“You may remain here, Clarissa,” said Lady Catherine.
Their eyes met. Georgiana tensed, preparing herself for an outburst.
“Clarissa,” said Robert gently. He winked at her and smiled faintly.
She nodded as though he had said something and sat down.
Lady Catherine was the only one not perturbed by her daughter’s sudden departure. A look of immense satisfaction had settled on her face.
“You must not mind Anne, Fitzwilliam,” she said, turning to the Colonel. “Her nerves are easily shattered. My announcement gave her so much pleasure, she was completely overwhelmed. You know she is very fond of you.”
Georgiana wished she could think of some way she could help Anne. On the one hand, she was more than glad that Lady Catherine no longer considered her a candidate. On the other, she had the same response as Clarissa. She wanted to go to Anne and talk to her and to convince her to stand up against her mother. But what was the likelihood of that happening? Besides, what could she offer to do? Beyond asking Anne to come and live with them—which was quite impractical, especially when Georgiana would be caught up in the events of the Season—she did not see any way out.
Colonel Fitzwilliam gave no further indication that evening whether he welcomed the arrangement or opposed it, and Lady Catherine did not raise the subject again. But after dinner the gentlemen did not join the ladies in the drawing room, clearly preferring to stick to their port.
She could only hope that Colonel Fitzwilliam was strong enough to stand up to his aunt, and that Anne’s fortune would not prove to be too great of a temptation.
Chapter 11
The next morning Anne did not send them a note, nor did she join them on their accustomed walk through the grounds. This inevitably gave rise to the darkest kind of conjecture from Clarissa.
“She is back in her prison. She has been forbidden from meeting us,” said Clarissa dramatically. “Lady Catherine intends to force M
iss de Bourgh into this marriage, and she will brook no opposition.”
Georgiana worried over this. “Perhaps. It is too early to say. Possibly Anne is simply ill,” she said. “Or very likely she is staying away because she does not want to encounter Colonel Fitzwilliam. She was quite mortified yesterday at Lady Catherine’s announcement, particularly since the Colonel did not take it very gracefully. Why did she have to announce it so publicly?”
“To force the Colonel’s hand, of course,” said Clarissa. “Anyway, if she only wanted to avoid Colonel Fitzwilliam, she could still meet with us. I think it most likely that Lady Catherine has locked Anne in her room. She has put her on bread and water until she gives in.”
Georgiana frowned at her cousin. “This is no time for flights of fantasy. We are facing a serious problem here.”
“Flights of fantasy? Do you not believe Lady Catherine will force Anne into this marriage?”
Georgiana knew Lady Catherine had set her mind on the marriage. “She may not force her—at least, not in the way you think. But she will certainly make her life very difficult if she tries to refuse.”
She hesitated, knowing Clarissa would object to what she had to say.
“I spent the whole of last night considering Anne’s problem. I hardly slept a wink for thinking about it. At the end, I concluded that it is not such a great sacrifice for Anne to marry Colonel Fitzwilliam, if he is willing to marry her, that is. My cousin is a very pleasant gentleman. He will make her life as comfortable as he can. It would certainly be far better for her than staying under her mother’s thumb.”
Georgiana expected outrage at her statement. Clarissa, however, pressed her lips together for several moments and considered it.
“That would all be very well,” said Clarissa slowly, “if I could be sure it would be a regular marriage. But I would not count too much on it. Colonel Fitzwilliam has no residence of his own, and he is a soldier. Anne can hardly follow the drum! And Rosings Park is Anne’s inheritance. Lady Catherine will arrange for him to be established at Rosings once the two are married, which would mean they would both be under her thumb.” She shuddered delicately. “He would be a fool to agree.”
The Darcy Cousins Page 10