Anne unexpectedly twisted sharply out of his grip and struck her hand flatly across his face as hard as she could. “Now get out before I have you thrown out!”
Monty was stunned that she slapped him; however, that emotion soon gave way to anger. “Remember, no one would believe you, dear Anne.” He wiped at the corner of his mouth, checking for blood. She hadn’t hit him that hard and knew he was being melodramatic. He turned for the door and left her with words that stung and hurt her as much as his face hurt him. “Admit it, Anne, you enjoyed it as much as I did.”
ELEVEN
_______________________________
The instant Miss Yates laid eyes on Anne, she knew the romantic rendez-vous had not gone as planned.
Anne rounded on the girl as soon as she appeared at the servants’ door to her rooms. She was livid. If the girl had not been of weak morals, Monty would never have been in Anne’s chamber that evening. For the second time that month, Anne felt her mother’s temper bubbling up inside of her and she was content to allow it. It gave her the much-needed courage to stand up for herself and say what needed to be said. “What in God’s name did you think you were doing, permitting a man into my room?”
Miss Yates stared wide-eyed and open-mouthed at her infuriated mistress. “I…”
“Did the thought ever occur to you of what might have happened by leaving me unchaperoned?”
“Well, I…”
“I believe you did not. Tell me, was this sort of behaviour tolerated with Lady Metcalfe’s daughters?”
“Well… w…with the youngest, certainly.” The lady’s maid found her tongue but her words were not what Anne wanted to hear.
“You mean to say you have done this sort of thing before?” Anne’s voice reached a dangerous pitch.
Miss Yates nodded as tears welled in her eyes.
“Oh, you may very well cry, Miss Yates. What you have done today is reprehensible, and will not be tolerated under this roof. Am I understood?”
Miss Yates nodded as relief suffused her face.
Anne saw it and countered quickly. “And do not think that a reprimand is all you will have from me. Oh no! You will not get away with this so easily, Miss Yates.”
Anne was loathe to admit it, but there was a certain enjoyment to be had in meting out justice oneself. “You are no longer required to attend me.”
The gasp and look of shock was enough to tell Anne her punishment struck the woman hard. “Send Jeanette up; she will take over your position as my maid.”
Miss Yates’ sobbing touched Anne’s heart, but she dared not back down now. As she watched the young woman retreat, she said, “And be thankful, Miss Yates, that my mother has not been informed…yet.”
After the door closed and Anne was alone, she sat, staring at her shaking hands. Part of her refused to believe she just said those words. The other part of her was jubilant. She could rest assured that no other man – for she now refused to call Monty a gentleman – would be permitted entry to her rooms. That would be the first order given to Jeanette when the girl arrived.
Anne also promised herself that the next servant who behaved in such a manner and displayed a lack of propriety would be dismissed on the spot, without references.
* * *
Anne knew full well that she had to attend dinner that night or run the risk of being told that she was unwell and unable to attend the picnic the following day. That she would not allow. She had to speak with James at all costs. She needed his counsel. One question continued to echo in her mind: should she inform her mother of what passed that evening or not? Anne knew how her mother would react to such a disclosure, but also feared the consequences of keeping silent.
Anne realised, too, that she was being harsh on Jeanette once the young girl arrived to attend her, but she was still angry and shaking with it. She would show the girl some kindness once she calmed down. For now, her anger was still high against Miss Yates and Monty. Anne was certain before, but now she was left without a shadow of a doubt – the man was not to be trusted and was the last person on the face of the earth whom she could marry. She realised she needed sage counsel in order to persuade her mother of that same fact.
* * *
For Anne, dinner was an arduous affair. She could not concentrate on the topic of conversation at all. Ernest regaled them all with tales of larks that he, Horace, and Monty enjoyed in Oxford. It seemed to Anne that everyone laughed and had fun, except her. Anne watched on, with her frustrations bubbling under the surface. She knew Charles and Walter were watching her out of the corner of their eyes, but this didn’t surprise her. They were very observant and kind, yet she still hoped to avoid explaining to them, or to anyone at all, why she was not herself that evening.
As they took coffee in the drawing room later on, James approached her and spoke in muted tones. “You seem a little out of sorts this evening, Miss de Bourgh.”
Anne looked at him in surprise. She had felt herself to be invisible all evening, and yet James noticed. “Yes, I am, James. I have so much I wish to discuss with you. I am in dire need of your counsel.”
A shadow passed across James’ face and Anne wondered at it briefly. His smile seemed forced. “I am always at your service, Miss de Bourgh, in whatever capacity you have need.”
Anne sighed with relief, “Thank you, James. You have no idea how much that means to me. I can hardly wait until the picnic. I just pray we have an opportunity to speak in private.”
James’ smile was more genuine this time. “We shall make an opportunity, Miss de Bourgh.”
They were joined by Henry then and their conversation changed to include him. Anne was a little disappointed not to be able to continue speaking to James alone, but she always enjoyed speaking with his father, too.
By the time Anne retired, she felt calmer and eager for the morning to arrive. She decided she would stick as close to Henry as possible during the picnic. He offered the degree of protection she needed and, naturally, James would be able to accompany them, too. She hoped that would then lead to an opportunity for Anne and James to slip away, unwatched, to speak alone. Anne’s heart was heavy with its burden and she needed to release it.
* * *
Lady Catherine thoroughly enjoyed having a house full of guests. Rosings had not been such a place of fun and laughter since Sir Lewis died. After his death, it seemed that all the joy went out of the world for her. She was surprised to have it back.
One thing, however, puzzled her – her friendship with Henry Watkins. He was becoming more and more important to her, and that fact confused her. Before his arrival, she would have adamantly claimed that businessmen and people of new money were not of the same class as her, and therefore to be ignored and avoided at all costs. However, Henry challenged that assumption and seemed to have changed her mind on it entirely without her realising it. He had become someone whose presence she looked forward to every day and who was also fast becoming a confidante. The whole matter confused her.
As she sat at the window seat in her room looking out over the moonlit garden, she thought of what might have brought about such a change in her opinion. She could not attribute it to anything in particular at all. It simply happened so gradually that she hardly noticed it whatsoever. Now she felt she would not be ashamed to be seen in public with such a person, nor would she shun an invitation to dinner or a party from one such person, either.
She shook her head as she crossed the room to her bed. What would Sir Lewis say of her? He would laugh. She stopped and frowned. He often mocked me. Why do I now think so ill of my poor, departed husband? Lady Catherine was puzzled by her train of thought and saddened by the realisation that her marriage was not what would have been called happy. She was happy in the beginning. She was euphoric at marrying such a man, but were they ever in love? Was she ever truly happy with him?
As she climbed into bed that night and closed her eyes, Lady Catherine decided to think more on what made her happy. Of late, she certainl
y was and wanted deeply to continue to be. Yes, I would like to be a little happier now that I am getting older. She smiled to herself as sleep claimed her. What on earth has come over me?
* * *
The arrival of the estate manager the following morning irritated Lady Catherine, who was determined that no one and nothing should interfere with the promise of a fine day. Against her will, she informed her guests that their departure would be delayed for a short time, while inwardly she was resolute that she would discharge her business as quickly as possible.
There was a problem on one of the farms and Lady Catherine was relieved to learn the estate manager merely wanted her advice before taking action. She admitted to herself that her stomach had sunk at the sight of the man heading towards the house. More often than not, the estate business occupied her for a whole day at a time. However, Lucas Stokes was an excellent manager and handled things at Rosings well, she was willing to admit.
After Sir Lewis’ death, Lady Catherine was at a loss for what to do. Such things were a gentleman’s domain and she knew little of the day-to-day running of Rosings. Lucas Stokes, however, was patient and willing to teach her how things worked. She was certain his patience was borne from a will to keep his position, but that suited them both. Ever since, she relied on his good judgement with regards to the running of the estate and farms. She was astounded to learn that, in that first year alone, the estate actually turned a profit. That enabled the gradual upgrading of the farm workers’ cottages, and to buy new tools when needed. Lady Catherine saw to it that conditions improved and her workers were content. She expected diligence but had the respect of those who worked for her, although she was certain many of them rather feared her.
She was aware that she was slightly curt with Lucas Stokes that morning and hoped he did not notice her mind was not entirely on the business at hand. Lady Catherine consoled herself and justified her behaviour by reminding herself that he was in her study merely to ask for advice; she need not give him her complete attention.
* * *
Lucas Stokes was dispatched and Lady Catherine entered the drawing room and informed them that they may depart forthwith and that their picnic might begin.
Anne had already attached herself to Henry Watkins. In fact, she attached herself to him almost as soon as he arrived that morning. He, she observed, was somewhat relieved to see that Anne preferred his company that day to Monty’s. Henry made no bones about the fact that he did not approve of Monty’s behaviour. Anne was relieved to know she had a protector in Henry.
Anne seated herself with James, Henry, and her mother in the open barouche. Walter and Charles climbed aboard a gig Lady Catherine lent them for the day, as their carriage could not be opened, and that left the threesome to Monty’s own barouche carriage.
The sun beamed and the day promised to be glorious. Anne opened her lace parasol and positioned it so she could not see Monty, his carriage, or if he was trying to catch her eye. Anne was determined not to sit alone with him in any carriage, ever again. She did not know if that was possible, but she resolved to work against the flow leading her to the altar with him.
As they set off, Anne’s heart soared. She had never enjoyed such comparative freedom in her life. She knew now that the difficult thing would be to keep a firm hold on it.
* * *
Once they had all arrived safely, stretched their legs, and all the picnic things were arranged in a suitable spot, as one they seated themselves to take some refreshment. The day proved to be hotter than any of them anticipated, and Anne was glad of her parasol as much as her mother was glad of her fan, judging by how much it wafted about her face. They were on the crest of a small hillock and the view fascinated Anne. She had never before been able to look down and see the places she knew from above. She, James, Henry, and Lady Catherine pointed out all the places they knew or could identify from such a distance.
The cold refreshment was much needed and despite having sat for the best part of an hour to get there, Anne enjoyed just sitting and staring at the view before them. However, Anne noticed the threesome were getting fidgety. She did not wish to be goaded into taking a walk with any of them, least of all Monty, and so blurted out, “Oh! I do believe I could sit and look at that view for hours!”
“Do you really, Miss de Bourgh?” Horace scoffed. “Do you not find it a little mundane? I mean, you are looking at the places you’ve known for all of your life.”
“Whilst that may be true, Horace, there is a fascination in seeing them from such a distance, which I deeply enjoy.”
Henry agreed with her. “Aye, I am with Anne. I like to see people scurrying about like ants.” He laughed. “Look there!” He pointed and Anne strained her neck to see. There was the post coach, looking smaller than anything that would have fit into her doll’s house. It fascinated her.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the threesome shake their heads and smile mockingly, but she would not rise and take the bait. If they needed entertaining, she would not be the entertainer. They must amuse themselves.
Slowly, over the following hour, they drifted off, taking a walk by themselves, as did Walter and Charles. As they left, Anne saw Monty looking back in her direction. She was sure he wanted her to look at him, but she refused.
Lady Catherine announced that luncheon would be served at one o’clock and that she would like to walk and find some shade. Henry obliged her by offering his arm and Anne watched them walk away together. Anne was surprised to discover this left her alone with James.
He stood up and offered his hand to help her to stand. “I think we ought to walk in case the others come back.”
Anne took his proffered hand. “Yes, we will be able to speak without fear of interruption if we walk.”
“I also suggest we walk in the opposite direction to the others.”
Anne smiled, nodded, and together they set off at a gentle pace. They continued in silence until James felt it right to speak. “Miss Anne, am I correct in guessing that you wish to speak to me regarding the rumours I’ve heard about you and Monty?”
Anne let out a moan of frustration. “There is no me and Monty! Despite what he says, he is wrong on that subject.”
James sighed. “I confess I am heartily pleased to hear it.”
Anne looked at him. “You are?”
James reddened slightly. “Yes, I am. He could not make you happy, of that I am certain.”
Anne thought he was on the verge of saying more, but held himself back. She waited a moment or two, and when he did not continue, she answered him. “He could not. You are correct.”
“So if you know your own mind, what is it you wish my advice on?”
Anne looked at the ground ahead of them. She did not know how to form the words to tell him of what passed between her and Monty in her room the day before, so she pressed on with her concerns over her mother. “It seems my mother is determined that I shall indeed marry Monty. She cannot know how wretched I feel about the prospect.”
“You will be a very wealthy woman if you do. I am sure she is thinking of your security,” he answered pragmatically.
“But you see, that is my point. I am already a wealthy woman. I do not need to marry for money, James. I wish to marry for love.”
He smiled at her.
“What use is all my land and wealth if I am miserable?”
He did not answer her.
“‘For what shall it profit a man, if he shall gain the whole world, and lose his own soul?’” She smiled at him and he smiled back. “What point is there to marrying for money if I end up hating my life?”
“You have no argument from me, Anne. I agree with you. However, your mother is not from our generation. She will not see things as we do.”
“I know, but what can be done?”
“That I cannot answer, for now. I do know it would be for the best to discuss these things with your mother.”
Anne shook her head and stopped walking. “James, you h
ave not known my mother long enough if you can say such a thing to me. She will not brook opposition to her plans. I fear my opinion is of no consequence.”
“That cannot be the case, I am sure, Anne. She is your mother, and you are her beloved only child. Out of her love for you, she must listen.”
Anne admired his candid opinions and open heart. One short conversation with him and she was almost persuaded he was correct. She was so confident that she pressed on and told him about Monty’s improper entry to her rooms. She wasn’t entirely forthcoming as to what passed physically between them; however, she did admit to Monty kissing her. Anne was not prepared for his reaction and was shocked.
James was furious. He stared at her in anger and then paced up and down, his hand over his mouth. “He paid the maid to gain entry to your room, you say?”
Anne nodded; she dared not say another word.
“Blackguard!”
Anne’s heart pounded with fear.
“I ought to horsewhip him to within an inch of his life!”
Rosings Page 10