She said nothing, hating how her silence lent her mother support when she was ashamed of her behavior. But what could she say to make her mother — or anyone else, for that matter — listen? Anne was as invisible as a carpet on the floor.
Darcy escorted Mother out, both of them brushing past Anne, neither sparing her so much as a glance. Worse than a carpet. She was stagnant air.
Miss Elizabeth turned in her seat, her eyes meeting Anne’s. Seeing her.
Anne’s cheeks burned. There was no accusation, no reprimand in Miss Elizabeth’s look. To the contrary, there was kindness, and just as she had been struck with Miss Elizabeth’s bold confidence during her brief stay at Hunsford, Anne was again struck with the lady’s strength of character. She did not look away.
Anne envied her.
Wait. Miss Elizabeth was not standing in front of the vicar. And Darcy had already steered Mother out to the churchyard. Why was he not standing with his betrothed?
Anne blinked, not believing her own eyes. The vicar continued, forcing her to hear what her other senses doubted.
Nausea rippled in Anne’s stomach. Had Mother somehow succeeded in preventing Miss Elizabeth’s union to Darcy?
Dread chilled her to the bone. What had Mother done?
Mr. Collins approached, and Anne stepped out of the doorway to allow him to pass. He bowed as he always did, his eyes fixed on the patroness on whom he doted. They fed off each other’s vanity — he with his indelicately arranged, blatant compliments; she with her condescension on one so eager to praise her. It was a pity. Anne thought highly of Mrs. Collins. Charlotte was a sensible woman. She would be a goodinfluence over her husband, if only he would allow her more consequence over him than he allowed The Great and Highly Esteemed Lady Catherine de Bourgh.
With a sigh, Annie joined the party hissing at each other beside her father’s carriage. She suspected Mr. Collins’ presence signified he had greater devotion to his family than she had believed him to possess, but his easy abandon the moment her mother appeared only confirmed that he wished to reestablish himself in his patroness’ good graces.
Anne did not understand it. Mr. Collins’ living was secure. He need not kowtow to her mother’s every whim when only the Archbishop of Canterbury had the authority to strip him of his living … and then only after conviction of gross sin. Impossible.
Still, Anne hoped Mr. Collins would prove his character right then. Just once she would like to see someone stand up in opposition to her mother. Just as Miss Elizabeth had done.
Mother did not like to discuss it, but Anne remembered how infuriated she had been when she returned from Longbourn. Like a banshee in the night, making demands which did not belong to her to make on a young woman’s heart — a lady over which she held no influence or authority.
Mr. Collins bowed, his squeaking corset and unwanted presence interrupting Darcy and Mother’s verbal battle. “How extraordinary Her Ladyship shouldarrive when divine intervention has already interrupted that which most displeases her.”
Darcy looked fit to jab the clergyman squarely on the nose, but he had always possessed remarkable restraint. Ignoring Mr. Collins, Darcy said, “I have never given you leave to suppose I would subject myself to your wishes. My father never supported your scheme. I wish to marry the young lady I love, and that young lady is Elizabeth Bennet. She is my choice.”
Mother narrowed her eyes at him, her nostrils flaring. “And yet you are out here speaking with me instead of inside marrying that insolent girl.” After all these months, she still would not address Elizabeth by her name.
Darcy ran his hand over his face. “She suffered an accident which has delayed our union.”
Anne gasped.
Mother snapped at her. “You had best wait in the coach, Anne.”
Anne did not budge. Could not move. Her shock was too great, her unexpressed concerns too heavy. She watched Darcy, praying he would explain.
“A blow to the head has given her temporary amnesia,” he said.
“Temporary?” Mother arched her brow, already calculating, scheming.
Darcy’s jaw clenched, and he spoke through his teeth. “Her mind is sound. She only suffered a minimal loss of her memory.”
“Minimal? How so?”
“She remembers almost everything.”
“Stop speaking so vaguely, Darcy. What or whom does she fail to remember?”
“She only lacks memory of me. However, I have every reason to hope she will recover soon.”
“She remembers everyone else?”
“Yes.”
