“Everyonebutyou?” Mother gloated. She had been searching for a weakness, and she had found it. “That girl must not love you very much if she cannot remember you.”
Anne saw how deeply her mother’s cruelty pierced her cousin. She reached out to him but thought better of it. Mother would think more of it than Anne meant to express.
Darcy remained silent. Anne could think of nothing to say which might spare him from the pain inflicted upon him. And Mr. Collins was of no use at all.
With nobody to stop her, Mother continued, “This incident is proof of her low birth. She is not worthy of our family.”
Darcy seethed. “How dare you—”
“Her mind is as unsound as those of the rest of her family if she is so easily taken with an illness of the mind. That girl is bound for the asylum.”
Surely, she could not believe that! “No, Mama—”
“Hush, Anne! You will hold your tongue while I arrange your future.”
This was not the future she wanted at all. Anne turned to Darcy. He would fix this horrible situation. He fixed everything. She held her tongue and waited for him to put everything right.
He took a step toward the church. “You have traveled here for naught, Aunt. I must ask you to leave.”
Anne wanted nothing more.
Mother called after him. “I think not. It is plain to me that you are in sore need of my superior counsel and wise guidance.”
“Mama, he is right. We ought to go.”
Darcy continued walking, and Anne followed suit in the direction of the carriage. Only, her mother did not follow. Instead, she raised her voice. “Anne is fatigued and requires rest. I will take rooms at the Meryton Inn. It is my intention to stay there until we reach a satisfactory arrangement.”
That would never happen. She would never be satisfied until Darcy agreed to her scheme, and Darcy would never be happy without his Elizabeth. What a mess.
“Mr. Collins, has a doctor seen that girl yet?” Mother asked quietly, one eye on Darcy, who stood near the entrance, making certain they departed.
The clergyman nodded. “Longbourn does not boast a doctor as Hunsford does, Her Ladyship. Its residents must content themselves with nothing more than a simple apothecary, Mr. Jones.”
“He has not examined her, then?”
“No, though I saw him enter the church minutes before your arrival. I daresay he will see her as soon as the ceremony is done.”
“You will send him to me after he has seen her.”
Mr. Collins bowed. “Of course, I would be honored to be of service to—”
“You cannot know how helpful you have already been,” she said, leaving him to alight the carriage, a rare smile stretching her lips.
Anne did not know what to think. She liked Miss Elizabeth. She was not intimidated by her mother, as most were. As Anne was. Her forehead tightened. Now, that was not exactly correct. Anne was not intimidated by her mother. Just … tired. Worn.
And, right now, watching her mother smile, Anne was sorry. Sorry Miss Elizabeth was injured. Sorry to learn Darcy was not already married and no longer an option. Sorry because she knew that her mother would stop at nothing to prevent him from marrying the woman he loved.
Anne’s disappointment deepened — at circumstances beyond her control, but mostly in herself. It was a good thing Patrick was not here to see her. He would not approve of the woman she had become. He certainly would never want her. He was probably married with several children of his own by now. And happy. As happy as he deserved to be, which was a great deal. Anne prayed that at least he was happier than she was.
Years of bound emotions loosened, stirring within her. Sadness she would very likely never achieve contentment, anger at herself for allowing it, and the smallest shard of hope. Not for herself. She was beyond that. But she would hope for Darcy and Miss Elizabeth … and Patrick.
Anne clenched her hands in her skirts. From that day forward, she refused to be a tool in her mother’s arsenal.
The bold thought overwhelmed her. Strong words for a weak woman. What could she do? Anne pondered the question, but even as the carriage jolted into motion, the wheels turning in her mind produced nothing. She was absolutely useless.
CHAPTER 11
Mama wavered between ecstasy and despair, success and failure. When she considered Jane, the joy in her smile and the joviality in her voice expressed the approval of a mother fully contented with her daughter. When she looked at Elizabeth, she frowned and fretted.
