With a hasty indrawn breath, my fingers loosened around my walking stick such that it almost fell to the floor. “How can you ask such a question after you have spent the last several years moping in a pathetic fashion? I am doing this for you! The fault is mine for condescending to give that grasping woman consideration when she visited Mr. and Mrs. Collins. Since I cannot alter the past, the most I can do is seek retribution.”
“I have no animosity for Darcy or his wife. They are not the cause of the unhappiness that has pervaded my life.”
She could not mean that! My mouth opened in a futile attempt to speak. With a hard swallow, I found my voice. “Why would you not want to punish Elizabeth? She took your rightful place as Darcy’s wife!”
“Since my childhood, you have told me that he and I should marry one day, but you never broached the subject in Darcy’s presence until after Uncle George died. Darcy never discussed the subject with me, but his actions ought to have made his intentions obvious. After the death of his father, he ceased all communication with me save for the barest of civilities.”
Her brows drew together. “For years, I accepted your excuses for his avoidance. When I learnt of his imminent marriage to Elizabeth Bennet, it seemed my purpose in life had been taken away. What else did I have to hope for or anticipate? I am persuaded that my depressed spirits precipitated the insomnia and the head and body aches that plagued me.”
I struck my walking stick on the floor, and the resultant racket resonated through the room. “Elizabeth caused the decline in your health. You would have married Darcy if not for her scheming!”
“That is not certain. Furthermore, I do not know if I ever wanted to be his wife.”
“You are blathering. That artful woman took your rightful place.”
Anne removed her scarf and turned towards me, placing her hands upon her hips. “Do you recall how pale I used to be? Now, my skin is tanned from the sun, and I am stronger than ever before.”
“Without doubt, you appear far healthier than when we last met. Did Dr. Finch provide you a new medication?”
“No, not at all.” Anne returned to the looking glass. She smiled at her reflection as she removed and repositioned a hairpin. “In fact, I no longer heed his recommendations. After you departed Rosings, I ceased taking the medication he prescribed. After a se’nnight without the tincture, my insomnia vanished. Since then, I have enjoyed sound, restful sleep throughout the night and have awakened each day feeling refreshed.”
“That is splendid news, but do you not think the tincture cured you?”
“No, I do not. Furthermore, I instructed the cook to dispense with the meat dishes I had always been forced to eat but never enjoyed. I have switched to a more varied diet, and my appetite has improved. My headaches and body aches have disappeared. For the past two months, I have spent hours each day walking out of doors—an activity Dr. Finch had always warned me to avoid.”
Yes, he had admonished that the risk of Anne catching cold or a worse illness would be too great. Had he been wrong?
“I began with short distances around our grounds and extended to longer routes over time. In recent weeks, I have roamed as much as eight miles in one day.” She moved to face me.
Good Lord!I should have expected the exercise to do her harm rather than strengthen her. My stomach twisted at an agonizing certainty: I had failed her. “I…I do not know what to say. Dr. Finch’s fine reputation is without equal. He has studied with the most trusted physician to the royal family. Yet there is no disputing the improvement in you. I wish I had sought another opinion long ago.”
“My object is not to assign blame.” Anne used a soft tone. “I know that one of your oldest friends recommended Dr. Finch.” She beheld me with a determined stare. “At my request, LadyMatlock wrote to me with the names of several physicians I might use in the future. I will never agree to see Dr. Finch again.”
“Yes, I understand.” Did she expect me to object?
“Furthermore, I have no intention of leaving Pemberley so soon. I beg you to abandon your mean-spirited plan. Now that I am healthy, I want to participate in activities denied to me in the past. I should like to know my cousin Elizabeth better.”
In a flash, my face suffused with heat, and my lips tightened. “You would seek a friendship with the woman who stole Darcy from you? You, of all people, cannot want to consort with that harlot! I forbid it!”
“Elizabeth did not steal him—he never belonged to me. And even if she had never come along, I do not believe he would have proposed to me.”
How could she say that? “Perhaps the excessive exposure to the sun has affected your thinking.” I stamped around the room, throwing my arm to and fro to emphasise my speech. “Why is everyone so eager to approve of Elizabeth and overlook the fact that she never had a right to become mistress of Pemberley? She should have had the sense to accept the proposal of her cousin Mr. Collins rather than look higher than him for a husband. It seems I am the sole person to see Elizabeth for whom she really is, but I will never accept her!”
A vigorous whack of my walking stick accompanied each step as I fled my daughter’s room. I flung the door shut behind me with force, jarring the paintings on the passage wall. I entered my chamber, shooed my maid away, and collapsed into an armchair.Good gracious, had all my planning been for naught?
Traitorous images descended upon me from the past few days—Elizabeth reading to Bennet, playing quadrille with a modicum of skill, and attempting to engage me in conversation. My hands fell limp at my sides, my palms clammy, my body draining of energy.Could I possibly be wrong about her?
The idea dangled before me, encroaching like a buzzing gnat, and a sour taste filled my mouth. If even Anne wished me to cede my antipathy towards Elizabeth, perhaps it made no sense to nurture my grudge against her.Egad!
Darcy
We all gathered in the courtyard where carriages awaited to take most of our guests to the north meadow, and I made the necessary introductions. Elizabeth, Georgiana, Richard, and I should proceed on horseback.
Jane approached for a look at Elizabeth’s new riding horse and expressed her admiration for the mare. After some consideration, Elizabeth had named the horse “Jemma” after the beloved grandmother, Jemima Bennet, who had restored her interest in riding.
I fidgeted in the saddle when Elizabeth rode Jemma for the first time. Despite Billy’s assurances for the mare’s calmness and reliability, one could not be too cautious with a new horse. Jemma took slow, halting steps at first, accustoming herself to Elizabeth’s weight, voice, and cues, but did not exhibit any alarming behaviour.
As though sensing my gaze, Elizabeth turned to me, and her eyes flashed with a captivating glint. “Jemma has a lengthy stride for her size. She is alert, curious, and observant but not skittish. Shall we canter ahead to the big oak and wait there for the others?”
