Whether Anne wastrulyat such risk, or onlybelievedshe was, mattered little. Believing was bad enough; indeed, believing might be worse than the danger itself.
~~~
Mother continues her campaign against Fitzwilliam to get him to marry me, and he continues to resist mightily. I must confess, it is one of my few amusements, aside from my reading. During his last visit, he forcefully denied the entire arrangement and pointed out to Mother that, if Aunt Anne had made such a bargain, she most certainly would havetoldhim. The poor man was livid, and it was heartbreaking to watch him try to maintain his polite demeanour when he clearly wanted to tear Mother’s hair out. That would obviously be ungentlemanly, so he demurred… much to my disappointment. Aside from myself, I believe he maybe the most tightly wound individual I have ever met (not that I have met all that many).
I will ambush him tomorrow and speak candidly. I enjoy his company, but not enough to endure what happens when he declares his lack of intentions so forcefully. I will suggest we become more distant, since we cannot have any true intimacy like we enjoyed as children anyway, and the little bit of good company I am likely to get from him is not worth the bother. Aside from that, there is the slight possibility my mother will attempt a compromise, which would be… bad.
I will miss his company, and hope he manages to marry soon to end the entire debacle. He is the man most in need of a good wife of anyone I have ever known. He is a good man at heart, but something is not right in his head, or his upbringing, orboth. He offends nearly everywhere he goes and has no idea why. His father filled his head with pride, his school filled his head with nonsense, the matchmakers of the ton filled his heart with fear, and the poor man has no idea how to get past it. I can only hope he chooses wisely. The right wife could fix everything; the wrong wife would be complete misery for both. In some ways, I pity the poor creature. To be sure, she will be rich as Croesus, but so am I, and what has that bought me? For her riches, she will have to act as governess for both her children and her husband.
See there, apparently matchmaking for Darcy men runs in the blood. I would like to see him settled. Of course, with the way he behaves in public, I can well imagine he will find the perfect woman and frighten her off with his appalling manners.
~~~
Such clear analysis from such a young girl surprised Elizabeth and once again impressed her with its humour. She tried hard not to read too much into what the young lady said about Mr Darcy, but she began to believe there was more than one game being played. The entire exercise might well have been engineered by Anne so Elizabeth would innocently read Anne’s comments about the vexing man sprinkled throughout the journals. That Anne had predicted their first encounter at the Meryton Assembly years in advance was either curious or ominous.
By that point in the diaries, Elizabeth knew the young lady’s illness came and went in waves. The troughs were very low indeed, while at the peaks, she remained below average in health, but not so terrible.
Anne never learntaccomplishmentsexpected of young ladies because shedid not want to.It was as simple as that. Lady Catherine thought she was too ill to learn, but anybody who could write page after page in a journal could learn to draw, paint, or play the pianoforte. Anne de Bourgh had not learnt by her own design. Whether she emulated her mother’s laziness or disdained the expectations, she put no effort whatsoever into them, and her mother did not press, probably concluding any lady with her inheritance need not bother.
Lady Catherine might, in normal circumstances, have had a point. She had secured a very good marriage herself without those accomplishments, and probably ascribed all her own virtues to her daughter. Unfortunately, that analysis missed an important point. She wasLadyCatherine Fitzwilliam,daughter of the Earl of Matlock.Her daughter was simplyMissAnne de Bourgh, yet another heiress with no living father or brothers at all. It was a very different situation, and Anne could have used all the help she could get. On the other hand, she had a veryhandsome inheritance, so getting a decent husband should be child’s play if she avoided titled men.
By Elizabeth’s calculations, Anne was now on the high side of 23, meaning she had endured her condition for nearly a decade, far longer than Elizabeth herself had spent seriously working on the wifely skills.
Elizabeth thought about that for a while, then took up pencil and paper (the pencil seemed appropriate) and started making notes. She would of course have to reread the diary from the beginning. She had a plan of attack, and it was time to start being more rigorous.
~~~
“Lizzy, come away from whatever insanity grips you this last day and have some tea. These are your last days here, and you are wasting them on whatever project you seem to have acquired.”
Elizabeth looked up and laughed gaily. “That is much more intimidating, Mary. Good girl! Perhaps you will manage to be a stern mother after all. See if you can put a little more… well…fireinto that frown.”
Mary swatted her on the head, took her hand, and dragged her to the tea table. “What has you so bothered on your last two days with your dearest sister?”
Elizabeth smiled and did not contradict her. Jane might once have been her dearest sister, but Mary had quietly supplanted her by a notable margin. She would, of course, never mention it to either, but true it was.
“I am engaged because I am a weak and timid creature.”
“How so?”
“I cannot seem to sayno.”
“I suppose this concerns Anne?”
“She asked me to… well—”
Mary touched the back of her hand gently. “I know it is in confidence. I will not pry. Will you finish before Uncle Gardiner’s man arrives to take you home?”
“I just finished. I wish to spend the day with you tomorrow. I must confer with Lady Catherine and Anne, but I shall defer it until the last moment. I shall send a note tomorrow to arrange matters as I must.”
“Being squeamish, are we?”
“Being strategic.”
Multiple Reflections
“Lizzy, what in the world are you speaking of, asking to see both Mother and me? Are you insane?”
Elizabeth tried not to grin at the success of her prognostication: that the 1-day delay in her response, and a note sent only that morning, would cause Anne to intercept her within 20 steps of entering Rosings. The encounter had occurred between 17 and 18, so she congratulated herself.
