“A curse.”
“A curse?” Elizabeth asked, eyes wide. “Do you believe in curses?”
“No, I do not.”
Casting her a crooked grin, Elizabeth asked, “Then what truly happened?”
“My father’s great-great grandfather accused a gypsy boy of poaching. The child was hanged, and his mother put a curse on our family. Two days later, Rosings burned to the ground.”
“And do you believe it?”
“No.” Anne de Bourgh laughed. “I believe a servant knocked a lantern over in the kitchen.”
“Oh.”
“But a gypsy curse sounds so much more thrilling, doesn’t it?”
“It does,” Elizabeth said. She turned around at the footprint of the ruin. “It seems to have been of a substantial size.”
“It was. I rarely come here…not encouraged to do so.”
“I am certain the love of a mother can manifest in many forms,” Elizabeth said. “Still, I believe at times that love for us can also…repress our natural inclinations and make us…more reticent than is our want.”
Anne laughed. “Miss Bennet, I cannot imagine you having ever been reticent in your life.”
Elizabeth smiled at the compliment. “You, Miss de Bourgh, have never metmymother.”
The women laughed in solidarity, not having realized they shared something deeper than they could explain.
“There is a strength in having such a formidable woman as an example…”
“But,” Elizabeth said, “it can also be quite…exhausting.”
“True.” Anne straightened her bonnet. “Yet, as you have four sisters, the attention is not as…constant.”
Elizabeth exhaled a low breath. “Unlike yourself.” Their path took them around an abandoned well and past the ruins of the stables. “I fear, although my mother’s attentions are not concentrated on me, when she does take notice, I do not always perform to her expectations.”
Anne gave a half-hearted smile. “And I fear my mother always takes notice, so I perform for her more than I wish.”
They rode for a quarter of an hour exchanging pleasantries until Elizabeth spoke. “Miss de Bourgh, thank you for a most informative afternoon. I must get back to the parsonage, and am certain you will soon be missed from Rosings.”
“You are wrong, Miss Bennet. I am most assuredlyalreadymissed. It is only luck which has delayed a groomsman from finding me for some ‘pressing’ matter. But,” she said, raising her chin, “I will return when I am ready. And at present, I am not.” She whipped the reins as her pony started off. “I believe I will return you to the parsonage to save you a walk, although I know how much youenjoy it.”
“I thank you, but do not wish to be the cause of any contention between you and Lady Catherine.”
“I understand your concern, but my mother’s wrath is something I have lived with my entire life. Yet whatshedoes not realize, and I most recently have been reminded of…shewill not be the mistress of Rosings forever. It isIwho will take up that mantle before too long.”
Anne heard Elizabeth’s intake of breath and smiled while whipping the reins again.A change is coming, and I am no longer the mouse my mother controls…nor do I wish to be!
He heard her in the other room. Her laughter sounded like the tinkling crystal at his mother’s dinner parties of his childhood. Elizabeth had given him such strength in the world of his dreams that to have her so close yet so far was almost more than he could bear. He had to leave. Leave and lick his wounds.I cannot fathom another rejection in this life.
Because that is what it would be. His heart felt raw, so wounded, by the reality of all he had believed to be true was only a dream.
“Briggs? Briggs?”
His trusted valet opened his eyes from his restless slumber and stood from the chair. “Forgive me, sir.” It hadtaken his man longer than usual to dress him, and he was not quite steady on his feet, and when he sat down to rest again, poor Briggs must have fallen asleep as well.
“I wish to summon the doctor to determine when we can leave Kent.”
