Caroline shook off such concerns. “Please know that I enjoyed making her acquaintance and I appreciate her efforts, but I shall not attempt to use it in any way that will not reflect well on us.”
“That is good news, Caroline.”
Bingley’s feelings softened for the sister with whom he had been close as a boy, but who had become a woman he did not know and could not like. Perhaps there was hope yet for Caroline.
“As you have apprehended, the acquaintance will do you good in society, and not only because men who did not find you acceptable before will reconsider. In fact, I would urge you not to give any such man the time of day, Caroline, for a marriage to such a man would not be agreeable.”
“Yes,” whispered Caroline. “With that, I cannot but agree.”
A smile of affection for his sister came easier than it had in recent years. “Of greater importance, I cannot but think that association with such excellent people as Darcy and the Fitzwilliams, and even the Bennets, will do us good, for I esteem them highly.”
“I cannot but agree, Charles.”
Having said enough, Bingley allowed the subject to rest. Though Caroline had not been all ambition and lust to rise in society, he thought those traits—that still existed—would give way to other, more important considerations. Of perhaps utmost importance was that whatever bile Caroline harbored when she returned from Netherfield, she had not unleashed to her friends. Now Caroline would be Mrs. Darcy’s most fervent proponent. Given Bingley’s interest in Miss Bennet, he was content, knowing that his sister would not oppose his pursuit of her for some silly notions of directing him to some heiress he would not appreciate. While this had not been Bingley’s only motive in speaking to his sister, the relief her changes wrought was welcome, indeed.
THE SHOCKS CATHERINEhad endured were never-ending, as she was to discover the moment she returned to Rosings Park. Catherine was unaccustomed to having her will thwarted—so shocked was she that she could not conceive of what to do in the face of Darcy’s betrayal. The dream of having Pemberley andRosings united was now ashes, and those remnants would soon take flight before a storm she had never expected to endure.
The first sign of incipient change was the carriage drawn up on the drive, prepared to depart. As curious as the sight was, Catherine obtained no information from the stable hands, for her queries resulted in little more than the response that Miss de Bourgh had ordered it readied for her use. Unable to fathom what Anne was about, she entered the house intending to discover her daughter’s location. That was not difficult, as Anne was in the entrance hall, her maid tying the bow of her bonnet around her neck. Anne was clothed in a travel gown and a long flowing coat over top, the gloves on her hands, the supple leather gloves she only used when she went out in her phaeton.
“Anne!” exclaimed Catherine on seeing her. “What do you do here?”
“Mother,” said Anne, no hint of warmth in her voice. “You made better time from Hertfordshire than I expected. In truth, I hoped to be long gone before you arrived.”
“Long gone?” echoed Catherine. “What do you mean? This is unseemly, for you know that your health does not support whatever silliness you are contemplating.”
“My health, Mother,” retorted Anne in a tone quite foreign to Catherine, “is not so poor as you might suppose. Though I am not robust, I am capable of much more thanyouhave ever supposed.”
A familiar anger, such a part of her daily life, welled up within Catherine’s breast, sufficient to render her voice raspy at her daughter’s defiance. “You shall not speak to me in such a way, Anne. I have kept you all these years, taking the greatest care of your needs. I must have your respect.”
Anne snorted, an indelicate noise such as Catherine had never heard from her daughter. “Yes, Mother, I suppose you must cling to such notions as these, for you have nothing else.Had I any notion that you consideredmywellbeing instead of your selfish desires in the matter of Cousin Darcy and your lust to lord over Pemberley, Imightthank you for the ‘care and attention’ you have provided to me all these years.
“As it is, I know the truth. I am now three and twenty and have never had a season becauseyoudeemed it useless, as I was to marry Darcy. You have not even allowed me to do something so sedentary as play the piano, all for your supposed concern for my health.
“I shall not accept such casual tyranny as this any longer, Mother.” The venom in Anne’s voice was only matched by her implacable disdain. “I shall depart at once and throw myself on the mercy of my uncle, for I knowhewill not keep me in a gilded cage as a hostage to his dynastic ambitions.”
Catherine could not muster a response, for she did not understand what was happening. Did Anne not wish to have such a life as she would have had as Darcy’s wife? Even the present Darcy, though not carrying the noble blood of the Fitzwilliams in his veins, would have been an acceptable husband, for Pemberley and the Darcy standing were what mattered. How was she to understand this?
“I see you have no comprehension,” said Anne, interrupting Catherine’s jumble of thoughts. “It is my sincere hope you learn someday, Mother, for otherwise you will live a lonely life.Ifyou can bring yourself to repent for your deeds, theremaybe some chance of rapprochement. Until that day, I want nothing further to do with you.”
Then, without an acknowledgment or even a backward glance, Anne departed, taking her maid with her. As the rumble of the carriage’s wheels faded into the distance, Catherine stood stock still in the entrance, staring at the door through which her only child had just departed.
LORD JACOB MATLOCKwas enjoying the company of his niece and her friends far more than he had supposed. As his youngest daughter had married and departed from his house the previous year, and his younger son only stayed with them when he was in town, he had grown accustomed to an empty house with only his wife for company. Hosting three ladies, two of whom were under the age of eighteen, brought back a sense of nostalgia he had not thought he would ever recall.
Georgiana, of course, was long known to him as his sister’s daughter, but she was so quiet that it was not difficult to overlook her presence. Miss Bennet was also a soft and reticent woman, of such gentle manners and character that Matlock did not think anyone who met her could dislike her. Miss Kitty, however, was not only lively, but she was not shy in sharing her opinion, often when she should not. In many ways, she affected the behavior of his niece, who had taken Miss Kitty’s measure and emulated her to a certain degree, though he did not suppose she would ever be so open.
“Do not concern yourself for Miss Kitty,” said his wife one evening when he offered a comment on the subject. “By the time she is ready to enter society, she shall be a proper, yet lively young lady.”
“Yes, I am not surprised you would take her under your wing,” mused Matlock. “The girl is not precisely improper, but she has a habit of blurting out whatever is on her mind.”
“Aye, that she does,” agreed his wife. “Yet I believe I have already seen a change in her manners. It is Miss Lydia who will be the greater challenge.”
“Then it is fortunate she is two years younger.” Matlock smirked at his wife. “I cannot imagineanygirl could resist your instruction, so I suspect she will end much like her sister.”
“You are correct to believe in my abilities.”
Matlock shook his head with fondness; his wife was truly an excellent woman. He was fortunate to have her in his life.
“What of Miss Bennet and that Bingley fellow?”
