An hour later, Anne finished with her task and sat back to admire her handiwork. She compiled a list of things she wished to do, things she no longer wished to do, and things she vowed never to do. At the top of the list of things she vowed never to do was marry for rank or money, and at the top of the list she wished to do was marry for love. She tucked the page into her diary and went downstairs, determined to begin without delay.
Upon reaching the entrance hall, she spied her mother, up and at her writing table. She turned and was on her way to the music room to continue openly from now on with her piano exercises as Wilson, the butler, entered the hall with a silver platter containing that morning’s letters. Anne came to a stop in front of the man, who lowered the platter so she might see. Anne saw her name on the top letter.
“Wilson!” Lady Catherine’s voice loudly came from her private study. “Where are you? Come here at once!”
Just as Lady Catherine appeared at the door to her study and saw Anne and Wilson, Anne slipped her own letter into her dress pocket, unseen by her mother. When had she become so sly? She was sad to feel that it was necessary. She knew that her mother would wish to read her correspondence, as well as her own.
Anne spun around and smiled. It was a victory, despite being a small one, and it made her feel good. “Good morning, Mother. I trust you slept well.”
“Not at all, I assure you. How can I with this Collins’ business weighing so heavily upon me?” She picked up her letters from the platter, still being patiently held out by Wilson, and exclaimed, “Oh, my nephew! I’d know this hand anywhere! My dear nephew!” She turned to Anne. “Come, Richard has written. You may read to me.”
Anne was pleased to do as her mother asked this time, knowing full well that her cousin had also written to her and the contents of that particular letter would remain hidden from her mother’s eyes.
In the letter, Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam told his aunt that he was well and had been called back to the war in Spain. Lady Catherine punctuated Anne’s reading with gasps, sighs, and the occasional tsk. He assured his aunt that he hoped to be back in England by the summer, and would most definitely visit her after he had visited with his parents.
“Well, I suppose he must travel to the north and see his parents, but it vexes me that he cannot stay with us and us alone. I mustn’t grumble; he will visit, and he loves to be here, that much is evident.”
Anne continued reading and, before long, the letter ended. Colonel Fitzwilliam said all that his aunt wanted to hear without, in reality, saying anything at all. Anne dearly hoped that all the real information was contained within the missive he wrote to her alone. She could barely restrain herself while she sat with her mother that morning. For most of her life, she sat silently through seemingly endless mornings with her mother and Mrs Jenkinson, while her mother decried all about her. However, never before had she a letter concealed about her person. It made her feel powerful, and that she could do anything to break free from her mother’s will. Until, that is, she looked upon her mother’s face, and then all her determination came crashing down around her.
* * *
That afternoon, Lady Catherine departed for Westerham to speak to the minister there about a replacement for Mr Collins, and Anne was left to her own devices. She immediately went to her father’s study. That room was never, used unless her cousins were visiting, and Anne knew she would not be disturbed. There was no fire in the grate and the room was cold, so she pulled her shawl tighter about her shoulders and sat at the window seat to read her letter from her cousin.
Dearest Cousin,
I trust you are well and the events in Hunsford are not too trying upon your nerves. I have no doubt whatsoever that you have discovered what I have done and what has happened. Therefore, I know I need not repeat them here.
I am a broken man, Anne. It seems that I took leave of my senses entirely. I was so foolish as to fall in love with a married woman, and acted upon feelings that I ought not to have had. The lady in question is not at fault. I am to blame only. I persuaded myself that she felt the same way, when in fact she acted with propriety and honour. Her husband is indeed blessed to have her by his side. I pray to God that the damage I have caused can be undone. I am so ashamed of myself, Cousin. I fear that I will not be able to hold my head up again in society once word gets out of my foolishness.
Our cousin Darcy informs me by letter that Mr Collins lives and I pray for his speedy recovery. I will recover myself in time and I beg of you, dearest Anne, to not think any less of me for what I have done.
Anne, do not leave me wretched and friendless. Write to me and send me words of comfort, I beg of you.
Yours affectionately,
Richard Fitzwilliam
Anne smiled to herself. She suspected this was the case. As a young lad, he had a schoolboy crush on her governess, Miss Cooper. She and her other cousins fought to stop him from making a fool of himself and declaring his love to the older woman, and they were glad when his family departed for home again. Richard claimed he would never recover, but Anne knew he would – he was strong. She was saddened by these recent events, as Richard was a grown man, and not a foolish one, either. “He must have truly loved her,” she muttered to herself as she gathered up the letter, and looked to see if there was any ink left on the desk. Her cousin Richard had not been gone long and she was thankful that the inkwell was half-full and not dried out. Seating herself, she began to write a reply to her beloved cousin.
My dear cousin Richard,
Please do not distress yourself unduly, and do not make yourself desperate. All will be well, you’ll see. Mr Collins is recovered and healthy again. We saw him here at Rosings but yesterday. I am also told that Mr and Mrs Collins are to remove to Derbyshire. I am not in possession of all of the facts of the matter, and so I refer you to our cousin Darcy to learn the particulars. For I do believe, however, that he had a hand in the affair.
I also assure you that no one of our acquaintance knows the truth of the incident, not even my mother.
I know that this is not what you wish to hear, but your heart will mend in time, and I pray that you will find a love that is meant for you and you alone.
Please do try and come home as soon as you are able. I long for your visit. I entreat you now to bear with me, as I have much to tell you regarding my own woes…
Anne went on to write about the planned visit and the list of men from which she was required to choose a husband. She prayed that Richard heard the desperation in her note and come back as soon as he could to aid her.
* * *
Once she arrived in Westerham, Lady Catherine quickly sought out Reverend Oates in the church. He was not there, so she set off for the vicarage. Her irritation grew. She arranged to speak to the man and has assumed to find him within the church. He, however, assumed that the church would be too cold and drafty for Her Ladyship, and so had a roaring fire and refreshments awaiting her in the vicarage.
Despite being out of sorts, Lady Catherine was very grateful for the attention and sat close to the fire to warm her hands. Reverend Oates saw to it that his guest was comfortable and furnished with tea and cake. Lady Catherine’s mood began to improve as she drank the warm brew. “I have to inform you, Reverend, that I am quite put out.”
Reverend Oates smiled kindly.
“I am unaccustomed to such behaviour. How dare he resign?” She bit into the slice of cake on her plate and was pleasantly surprised it tasted so good.
Reverend Oates took the opportunity to speak. “Your Ladyship must remember that Mr Collins is merely an employee. He may resign and move on if he so desires.”
She looked at him haughtily. “Must I? Must I remember such a thing? Am I to be treated with such incivility?”
“I am sure that Mr Collins does not mean to be uncivil. In fact, I am sure he was not. He holds Your Ladyship in the highest regard, you must know that.”
“It seems he does not, Reverend. If he did, then Mr Colli
ns would never have been tempted away from my employ.”
Reverend Oates knew the entire story, and how Lady Catherine behaved to Mr Collins and his wife. He was not surprised in the least that when a better offer presented itself, Mr Collins took it. “Well, we cannot dwell on the ‘ifs’, we must look to the future and find a replacement.”
“Humpf!” Lady Catherine felt that the man did not understand the situation at all.
“I contacted Canterbury, and they furnished me with a list of suitable candidates.” He handed her the list.
Lady Catherine was impressed that the list contained so many names. “I am pleased to see such attention from the Archbishop. He has given this some thought, I see. You may convey my thanks to him when you next write.”
Reverend Oates smiled weakly at her. “I am afraid I have already taken the liberty of writing to the gentlemen on this list.” He knew that many had refused the position, owing to Lady Catherine’s reputation being widely known.
She raised her eyebrows. “Oh, you have, have you?”
“Indeed, Your Ladyship. However, I have as yet been unsuccessful in finding a replacement. Not one has come back in the affirmative thus far.”
“Not one?” Lady Catherine was shocked. “This I cannot believe.” She looked down at the list again. “You did tell them who I am, did you not?”
“Yes, Your Ladyship. I told them who you are, and many already know of you.”
“Then I am at a loss to comprehend their refusal to accept such a prodigious position. I cannot understand it all, can you?”
Reverend Oates squirmed in his seat and made strange noises that sounded a little like “no”.
FOUR
_______________________________
There remained only one more day before the gentlemen visitors from London descended upon them all at Rosings, and Anne was determined to spend the day alone. She wished to walk in the grounds. She also heard that very day would see the departure of Mr and Mrs Collins. She did not know them well, but she would miss their presence at home. Anne was grateful that her mother’s time was mostly taken up with finding a replacement for Mr Collins. She knew it would not be easy to find someone appropriate, or who fulfilled her mother’s most exigent requirements, and she didn’t envy the minister at Westerham his task of aiding her.
Her mind was on the Collinses and, before she knew it, her feet had taken her, unseen, out of the house, across the grounds, and into the lane that separated her home from the parsonage. She stopped when she realised where she was and watched the goings on outside the parson’s home whilst concealing herself behind a tree. From her vantage point, Anne could see much and hear almost all that was said.
Mr Collins was flapping about, much as he usually was, but this time instead of being a hindrance, he was actually helping with the loading of the carriage. Anne couldn’t take her eyes off him. Had she never truly seen him before? Or had recent events affected some sort of change in him? Anne continued to watch in fascination.
“My dear Charlotte, I really must insist that you rest yourself,” he petitioned his wife.
Mrs Collins smiled kindly and lovingly at him, Anne thought, and replied, “I will be seated all the way to Derbyshire, my love. I can abide to be on my feet a while more.”
What could she mean? Was she infirm?
As she watched, Mr Collins drew his wife aside and stood looking towards Rosings. Anne gasped and moved further behind the tree to avoid detection.
“I do so fervently wish, Charlotte, that the rift between us and Lady Catherine could have been mended before our departure.”
“Yes, so do I, but we must remember that you did visit with her and offer peace.”
Mr Collins shook his head. “She is a stubborn woman. I will pray for her, Charlotte, I will indeed. I cannot see that there is much happiness in her life…” He paused. “…or in that of her dear daughter, either. I wish there was.”
Anne watched as Mrs Collins squeezed her husband’s arm.
“Yes, my dear. I wish it, too, for Anne’s sake.” Together they turned and headed back towards the house.
Anne heard enough of their good wishes for her to be moved into action. She stepped forward from behind the tree. Mr and Mrs Collins turned to face her as the sound of her footfalls on the gravel drive sounded loudly behind them.
Mr Collins stared in amazement, and Mrs Collins spoke first. “Why, my dear Miss de Bourgh, what a pleasure it is to see you here.”
Anne swallowed and cleared her throat. “The pleasure is all mine, and it is long overdue, Mrs Collins.”
Mr Collins stepped forward and looked around nervously. “Miss de Bourgh, you are here alone?”
“Yes.” Anne beamed triumphantly.
“Without your mother?” he continued incredulously.
Indeed.” Her grin grew wider. She knew she must now think quickly and somehow explain her presence there. “I have come to bid you adieu. To wish you both a safe journey and all the future happiness you deserve.”
Mr Collins looked at his wife questioningly. Mrs Collins stuttered, “All our tea things are packed, however, I know Mrs Higgs is preparing some for us as we speak. I apologise that we would be using the servants’ china, but would you care to join us?”
Anne felt a warmness diffuse her entire being. Here was a woman genuinely inviting her into her home. She could not have felt happier at that moment. “I would like that very much, Mrs Collins. Again, this is something I should have done sooner.” A sudden sadness threatened to steal away her newfound joy as the thought of their imminent departure occurred to her.
Mrs Collins stretched out her hand and squeezed Anne’s. “Never mind that, you are here now. That is all that matters.”
Her smile was warm and disarming and Anne regretted not ever having had the strength of will to take the time to get to know Mrs Collins. Gratefully, she followed the couple into their soon-to-be former home. Better late, than never.
Anne was heartily ashamed that she had not once in her entire life set foot in the parsonage as she crossed the threshold and followed Mrs Collins into the sitting room. Mr and Mrs Collins were all politeness and furnished Anne with all the particulars of how they came to be departing for Derbyshire. Anne cared not out of what she drank her tea, for it seemed to her to be the best cup of tea she had ever tasted.
The visit was briefer than Anne would have liked, but she was sensible of the fact that the Collinses had to be getting on if they were to reach Mrs Collins’ parents’ home in Hertfordshire before nightfall. Overcome with emotion, Anne embraced Mrs Collins – she hoped, her new friend – and made her promise to write to her and inform her of her news in Derbyshire. Before Anne left, she walked arm-in-arm with Mrs Collins to the gate.
“Mrs Collins, I wonder if I might prevail upon you to do me a favour?”
Mrs Collins looked surprised. “If I can help you at all, I will,” she replied.
Anne smiled at the friendliness of this woman, who until not long ago was a mere acquaintance. “I wish, if possible, for you to convey to my cousin Darcy and his wife that the disagreement that exists between them and my mother is none of my doing.” She looked nervous.
“I am sure that Mr and Mrs Darcy are aware of that, Miss de Bourgh.”
Anne frowned. “Perhaps I am not making myself clear. I do not wish to be separated from my cousin and his new wife. I wish to be better acquainted with her. We hardly spoke when she visited with you last year. I wonder if you might ask Mrs Darcy to write to me.” She suddenly felt she was being ridiculous and spurted out her next words. “You see, I have no friends to speak of. I do not wish to lose my cousin, and I would so like to gain the friendship of Mrs Darcy, as I hope that I have so recently gained yours, too.”
Mrs Collins smiled at her. “And what of your mother? Are you not even a tiny bit concerned about incurring her indignation?”
Anne paled and nodded, then looked earnestly into Mrs Collins’ eyes. “Yes, I am, but I am also
convinced it will be worth all of my mother’s anger.” She smiled weakly. “I wish to make some changes in my life, Mrs Collins, and I believe this is an excellent place to start.”
Mrs Collins nodded. “I do, too.”
Anne left Mr and Mrs Collins to their final preparations, and to wonder over the change in her, and made her way back to Rosings Park.
She was lost in thought and did not see her mother standing at the French windows, watching her progress towards the house. Anne almost jumped out of her skin as she stepped through the doors and was greeted by her mother’s shrill voice.
“What the devil has got into you, Anne? Where on earth have you been?” Lady Catherine fairly screamed.
Anne’s face turned ghostly white and she stared at her mother whilst silently chiding herself for not having been more vigilant.
“Well, speak up, child!” Lady Catherine bellowed across the room.
Anne could not answer. She merely stood with her mouth open, wishing for an escape. In two strides, Lady Catherine was at her side. Anne was fearful that her mother would strike her, but she simply reached out her hand and felt her daughter’s forehead. Anne breathed out heavily.
“My goodness, child, you’re running a fever!” Lady Catherine screeched.
Anne made to protest, but her mother hushed her and whisked her away and up the stairs to her room. Lady Catherine said that she was sure that Anne had caught something whilst outside and was muttering to herself. Anne’s mind was racing. She had to do something before she ended up sequestered in the house for the rest of her life. All her protestations, however, fell on deaf ears. The doctor was called and soon arrived in such haste, for he had been told that Anne was at death’s door.
Despite being deeply mortified that such a fuss was made and that the doctor was called, Anne was relieved when the door closed and she was left alone with the man. He was a goodly man, advancing in years, and always took time to sit and talk with Anne whenever he visited. He thoroughly examined her whilst she prayed that he would not bleed her again; she hated that treatment.
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