“Nothing bad, Anne, we promise you,” Aunt Elaine assured her niece who visibly relaxed.
“Anne, the reason we requested that you join us is because we would like to discuss your mother with you,” Uncle Reggie informed her.
“What has Mrs. de Bourgh done now?” Anne asked testily. Since that day at Pemberley, Anne had put the woman who bore her out of her mind. Given all she was forced to suffer under her mother’s control, nobody mentioned the woman in Anne’s hearing.
“That is just it, she had undergone a complete transformation…” Anne’s aunt and uncle shared all with her. If it had been weeks or months, Anne would have been sceptical, but it was going on three years, and Catherine de Bourgh was—if anything—more conscientious in her good deeds.
“She is unaware you are having her watched?” Anne asked, unwilling to credit her mother with anything that did not benefit her.
“Correct. In the last six months I increased her allowance to two hundred pounds a month. That is more than enough for her to move to a reasonably comfortable house with at least four or five servants, including a cook. The condition was she had to spend at least forty pounds a month on herself and her household. Every penny of the balance, she uses to better the lives of the people of Hunsford, Rosings Park’s tenants, and citizens in the Westerham area,” Uncle Reggie laid out. “There is no question she is sincere. She gives fifty pounds to the rector at the Hunsford church each month, to distribute as he sees fit to the needy.”
“If only she had been like this when I had lived with her,” Anne stated wistfully as a few tears ran down her cheeks. What caused the sea change in her mother was not important. The only thing that mattered was she had changed, and this was the mother Anne de Bourgh desperately wanted to meet.
“From all the reports we have, she is nothing like she was. She has begun to educate herself and, believe it or not, she is using part of the extra money she had to spend on herself to hire masters, including a music master, who is teaching her the pianoforte,” Aunt Elaine reported. “She has written to us requesting a chance to meet with the family to apologise in person.”
“Why now and not two years ago?” Anne asked.
“She did not feel worthy, Anne,” Uncle Reggie averred. “She felt crushing shame for the way she used to behave and did not know how to face us. After counselling from the clergyman at Hunsford, she has taken his advice and believes she has become the type of person worthy of begging our pardon.”
“The same parson she used to command as if he were her personal servant is counselling her now?” Anne was flabbergasted.
“Yes, Anne, the very same one. I am waiting for Frederick’s response before we go to Kent to see her, that is if you decide you want to come with us,” Uncle Reggie’s offer clarified that it was up to her alone.
“Before you jump to conclusions, she does not want her courtesy title back,” Aunt Elaine stated. “Your mother has at last realised the value of character and not a title. The days of her lectures on the maintenance of the distinction of rank are forever gone.”
“When do we depart for Kent?” Anne asked. She was starting to feel excited about seeing her mother—and thinking of her as a mother again.
“We will depart two days hence,” Uncle Reggie informed his niece.
~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~
“Welcome, Andrew,” Jane stated excitedly. She had missed Andrew greatly, even though it was but three days since they had seen one another in Town. As it was wont to do, her heartbeat sped up when Andrew was near.
“Thank you, Jane,” Andrew bowed to the Bennets. “Uncle Thomas, Aunt Fanny, it is good to see you again.”
“If I were a wagering man, I would say it is not us you are here to see—at least not yet.” Bennet’s quip caused Andrew’s colour to darken.
“Papa, behave yourself,” Jane gave her father a playful tap on the shoulder. “May we use your study?”
“You may, as long as the door remains partially open and a maid or footman is sitting in the hall nearby—out of earshot,” Bennet granted.
Jane arranged the chairs so they were facing one another and indicated one for Andrew to sit in while she took the one opposite him. “This must be serious, Jane,” Andrew tried to lighten the mood. He had been troubled when Jane was not willing to answer hm other than conditionally; he was worried he had overestimated her feelings for him.
“Andrew, I did not want us to start our courtship with any secrets between us.” Jane handed Andrew the portrait her mother had shown her when she was told about Lizzy’s true parentage.
“Why have you handed me a painting of Lizzy?” Andrew asked in confusion.
“That is just it. The painting is of the late Lady Priscilla, Uncle Freddy’s late ex-wife.” Jane stated evenly.
“Jane?” Andrew went still. The conclusion he jumped to seemed too remarkable to be true, but his Jane had been guarded, and their Lizzy looked exactly like the woman whose picture he held in his hand.
Jane told Andrew the story of the birth of the two babies in 1790 and what had occurred since. When she was done, Andrew was slack jawed. “I swore to my parents I would not share the story with anyone; I needed their permission to tell you. I want nothing more than to be courted by you, Andrew, but I refused to enter into a courtship with any secrets between us.”
“My parents and Richard know?” he asked carefully. Jane nodded. “You say Richard picked up…I remember! It was not long after Aunt Anne passed away, Uncle Freddy stopped himself from saying something. William, Jamey, and I left with Uncle Paul and Uncle Robert, but Richard remained with Uncle Freddy, Uncle Thomas, and my father.” Andrew puzzled out.
“Yes, that was when Richard discovered the truth,” Jane confirmed. “It is less than two years until Lizzy will be told. I am not sure how she will react to being kept in the dark for eighteen years.”
“William does not know, does he?” Andrew verified.
