Anne invited him to sit, with the faintest suggestion of a smile.
“Yes, cousin,” she said, “what may I do for you?”
There was a degree of curiosity in her manner, as it was perhaps the first time they had ever been alone together. Darcy had considered the wording of his proposal, but in the end resolved to be direct. He expected his aunt might interrupt them at any moment, and that he had little time.
“Cousin Anne,” he began, conscious of an unwonted nervousness—his last proposal having been far from successful—“I have come to ask for your hand in marriage.”
He looked at her steadily. Anne coloured, and her eyelashes trembled; yet, instead of hesitation, she met his gaze, and after scarcely a moment’s pause said, “Yes—yes, cousin, I shall marry you.”
Now it was his turn to be surprised. She spoke with a mixture of relief and decision, as though she perfectly understood his meaning. Her answer had been given in an instant.
He raised her hand to his lips; her lashes fluttered again. At that moment, Lady Catherine entered the room in great agitation.
“What behaviour is this, nephew, to call without informing me?”
“Good morning,” he said, bowing.
“What are you doing here, alone with Anne?” she demanded, in the same imperious tone.
“Allow me to explain. I came to request Cousin Anne’s hand.”
For once, Lady Catherine was struck speechless. She looked from her daughter to Darcy, and for a moment he thought she might oppose the match.
But when she recovered herself, she overwhelmed him with expressions of delight. She was enchanted.
“Why address her? It would have been sufficient to speak to me!” she exclaimed, almost beside herself with satisfaction.
Darcy turned towards Anne and again perceived how instantly her mother’s presence subdued her. The graceful composure he had admired seemed to vanish beneath Lady Catherine’s commanding manner. A feeling of compassion came over him, and he addressed his aunt with firmness.
“Pray, this is not a matter for you. It concerns only Anne and me.”
As Lady Catherine attempted to protest, he raised his hand to check her.
“From this moment, I shall be responsible for her. Anne is to be my wife, and I alone must decide for her.”
“Of course—of course,” Lady Catherine murmured. She was surprised, but not offended.
“You will continue to reside at Rosings and in your house in London, but you will see your daughter only at such times as may be convenient.”
If Lady Catherine had, for a moment, entertained hopes of interfering into their household, Darcy’s words effectively dispelled them. Yet her satisfaction at the match was so great that she was willing to accept any condition—for the present.
“We must inform my brother,” she said eagerly, “for Anne also requires his consent to marry.”
Darcy smiled. Lady Catherine was impatient to make the engagement public and to render any retreat impossible.
“Yes—we shall meet him, and the rest of the family, at Matlock next week.”
∞∞∞
As he had imagined, the most difficult person to convince was the colonel, whom he informed of his intentions before the rest of the family, on the very day he visited Anne and her mother.
“Do not look so concerned,” Darcy said. “Believe me, it was not done in haste. I have considered it for some time.”
“You said nothing to me because you knew I would try to dissuade you.”
“Probably, but she is my chance at a comfortable life.”
“I know a lady from Longbourn who could be your chance at a happier one.”
