She had begun a campaign of contrition to try to convince her family she had not planned to have her husband and daughter murdered. At the same time, she had done her best to appear contrite and demonstrate to her relatives she deserved to be among them again. So far, they had been unmoved. It had been more than four years since her banishment from the estate which should have been her own.
About a month after her arrival in Bath, the man in charge of her gaolers had informed Lady Catherine he and his men would depart on the morrow. She had celebrated prematurely.
The next day she was introduced to twelve men who had been employed by her husband to replace those returning to the Darcy and Fitzwilliam estates and houses. She had quickly learnt these men were less pliable—and not more like she had hoped—than the men they had replaced.
Even had she money to bribe them, it did not take long for Lady Catherine to learn these men, like those before them, were not interested in her orders or demands unless it was something their master had authorised.
When she had finally received a notice regarding her sister’s passing, it had been weeks past the interment. Add to that, those guarding her had refused to take her to Derbyshire when she had demanded they do so.
She had seen Anne’s death as a way to escape the confines of her imprisonment. She had intended to go to Pemberley toconsoleRobert Darcy and take over the running of his estates and houses. The Darcys were far richer and owned much more property than the de Bourghs after all.
But no, the men had ignored her orders. She had not known, but her husband had sent instructions to the men to make sure she did not get close to Derbyshire.
From Anne’s eleventh birthday on, Lady Catherine had written warm letters of congratulations, well, with as much good cheer as she was capable. If she could not pull the wool over her husband’s eyes, surely, she would succeed with her daughter.
To date, Anne had not replied to any of her letters.
~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~
In his final year at Cambridge, Richard Fitzwilliam had reached a decision. He had chosen to become an officer in the Royal Dragoons when he graduated in May 1805.
Those plans were thrown out with the bathwater when his mother informed him a great-aunt of hers had passed away leaving her estate to her great-niece, the only family member who spent time with her; she had no children.
On their way to Rosings Park for Easter in 1804, the Fitzwilliams made a stop at the estate of Cloverdell in Northamptonshire. There, Richard was informed his mother had signed the estate over to him, thereby negating his need to take a profession.
The estate was large. It was not as large as Snowhaven or Pemberley, but more on a par with Andrew’s estate, Hilldale. The large manor house was built in the Tudor style, and the estate had an income above seven thousand pounds per annum. Best of all for a lover of horses like Richard, there was a well-established horse breeding programme in place at his estate.
His estate! He needed to familiarise himself with that concept. His spirit of adventure would have enjoyed being an officer, but he knew his family, especially William who was still suffering from the loss of his mother, would be far happier he was not going into the army, particularly as the little tyrant had dragged France into a war with England, as well as other countries.
He was keen to return to Cambridge to share the news ofhis good fortune with his new friend, who was a year behind him but had only begun that year after transferring from Oxford, Charles Bingley.
Chapter 8
August 1805
Anne and Sir Lewis were visiting their friends at Longbourn and had been for more than a fortnight.
As he always did when the visit was planned, Sir Lewis had one of his grooms from Oak Hollow drive Anne’s phaeton to Longbourn so she would have the freedom of being mobile.
Sir Lewis and Bennet were seated in the latter’s study, a chess board between them and glasses of port within reach. Neither man had sipped his port yet, they were too engrossed in their game. To date, the former had never beaten the latter, but this game was the closest Sir Lewis had come to, if not winning, playing Bennet to a draw, which in and of itself would be an accomplishment.
Some ten minutes later, after both men were repeating the same back and forth moves over and over, they looked at one another. “If you agree, I would call this a draw, de Bourgh,” Bennet suggested.
“A draw it is,” Sir Lewis responded happily. “It is the best game I have played against you.”
“I concur, my friend,” Bennet agreed, “and based on your steadily improving play, it seems you can teach an old dog new tricks.”
“Thank you, Bennet…I think. I am not that many years older than you,” Sir Lewis ribbed. The truth was there was more than fifteen years separating the men in age.
“On a more serious subject, is it just me, or does Anne have to take more rests at smaller distances when she walks?”
“As much as I wish it were not so, I am afraid you are not mistaken,” Sir Lewis replied mournfully. “You know Bennet, the day Lizzy saved us, she did not only stop us from falling to our deaths, I believe her friendship has given Anne a new lease on life.”
“Of what do you speak?”
“Lizzy has never treated Anne like a delicate flower. Yes, she makes allowances for Anne’s reduced abilities, but it never stops her from including Anne in everything she does. Your other daughters, the Lucas girls, and some of the others Anne has met in the neighbourhood have been good for her too. They, however, are more careful around her.” Sir Lewis stared off into the distance for a few moments while he thought about Anne and her life. “Lizzy will never do anything to hurt Anne, but she pushes Anne further than any of the others. I believe Anne will fight to live and be in Lizzy’s company as long as, and as much, as she is able.”
Bennet was somewhat uncomfortable with the heavy emotions expressed by his friend, regardless of how much he understood them. Each man took a sip of his port. “Where did you find those enormous guards who watch over Anne?” Bennet wondered to change the subject.
