Anne laughed: sometimes her sister amused her greatly. “Love? I don’t love Archer, you silly. It is a marriage that suits both of us. Lady Goddard’s money is guaranteed for his career and I get a handsome, ambitious husband and a chance to get away from Pemberley and make a life for myself.”
“But you love Pemberley!”
Anne’s face hardened. “Of course I love it, but it will never be mine, will it? Or yours, or even if some disaster befell us both, Bennetta’s. No, it will go to Fitz, and if he has no children, then to Henry. I love it more than any of you but if I can’t have it, then I don’t want to stay there.”
Jane felt a wave of anguish, worry and pity sweep over her. It was bad enough losing Archer, but to a loveless marriage, to a girl who only saw him as a way of escaping from a life that didn’t suit her—that was hard indeed.
“But what if you marry Archer and then fall in love with someone else? What if …”
she hesitated, then went on…“what if he finds someone he truly loves?”
“Oh Archer is far too honourable to cause me any embarrassment. I think he would just suffer in silence. But enough of me.
Tell me, what is happening between you and the handsome Mr Frobisher? Have you made up your silly argument yet?”
“Digby? He means nothing to me. You encouraged him, to show me exactly what type of man he is. Well, you certainly succeeded.”
“Oh Jane. I will say sorry if it makes you feel better. Perhaps I was wrong to act as I did. By pretending to like him, I pushed him into proposing to me, when I am sure he preferred you. But you gave him no sign of your feelings! The poor fellow had no idea you cared for him. Why don’t you give him another chance? He is coming to the ball—although I have no idea how his name was added to the guest list—so you will have an opportunity to make everything pleasant once more. Now I must go and see what Bennetta and Mama are doing with the flowers. I’ve already planned out the decorations, but Benny will not listen!”
Jane wished with all her heart that she was back at Pemberley. Making an appearance at the ball had been hard enough to countenance; the thought that she would have to fend off Digby’s insincere attentions gave her great cause for concern.
She crossed to the chess table. One of the servants had picked up all the pieces from where Archer had discarded them and placed them at random on the board. She reached out to pick up one of the little white pawns. So small and inoffensive, but if played correctly, it could make a huge difference to the game.
Was that what Archer had meant when he said that a pawn could capture a king? Her fingers tightened round the little marble figure, feeling the intricate carving digging into the palm of her hand. How could she possibly save him? And from what? Ahead of him lay a sparkling career and a position of great power which gave him the influence to do good in the world—all in return for a marriage that might be loveless but would be held together by mutual liking and ambition.
He seemed to be saying that it was within her power to change all that, but what woman who truly loved would destroy the recipient of her affections knowing it would ruin him?
The rest of the day dragged past. Jane hid herself in her room after lunch, tired of listening to Anne and Bennetta bickeringabout arrangements for flowers, food, champagne, musicians and who should open the dancing and with whom.
She knew she was being dull and annoying her sisters by her lack of interest and was determined to make more of an effort at dinner. It seemed strange not to see Celeste sitting at the table. Anne had shown only the slightest interest in the Italian girl’s story, only wanting reassurance that she and Andrew would be attending on the following night.
“Oh they are sure to come,” Bennetta said airily. “Lady Goddard will because she wants to be here when Archer proposes and in her eyes Andrew can do no wrong, so I am certain they will accompany her.”
Anne looked content and Jane tried to stop herself from digging holes in the tablecloth with the prongs of her fork.
“Papa, you and Mama will lead the dancing, so please don’t vanish into your study just when we need you,” Bennetta said firmly. “And Jane, you need to be available as well, because there is sure to be some poor young man who will need a partner.”
Mr Darcy raised an eyebrow at his wife. “I wonder if the esteemed Duke of Wellington could find a place for Bennetta on his staff? I fancy she would acquit herself well with her undoubted talent for giving orders.”
Before another argument could break out, Elizabeth calmly turned the conversation by wondering when they would have the pleasure of seeing Colonel Fitzwilliam and Susannah, for surely they must have left Dorset by now and, unless something untoward had occurred to their carriage, they should have arrived in London.
“The Colonel has his own house in town, of course, but Susannah will have to come here until she goes back to Derbyshire. I have her room all prepared and obviously if she arrives soon, she will be in good time for the ball which will be atreat for her. I expect life has been very dull down in Dorset since you left, Jane.”’
Jane smiled. “I fear that the Colonel and dear Susannah’s idea of excitement is sweeping up the leaves on the flower beds and deciding what should be planted next year. She will no doubt be glad to get back to her own garden.”
“It must be very odd, to be a spinster, living with your younger brother and his wife. You must feel constantly in the way, an unwanted guest at their table. They would always be having to find her a partner for dinner or dances. I should hate it.” Anne gave a dramatic shudder.
“I can’t see the difference to us living with Mama and Papa,” Bennetta said swiftly.
“If you are still living with us when you have reached the age of forty, I shall pay someone to take you away,” Mr Darcy said absentmindedly as he tackled a particularly obstinate cutlet.
Bennetta laughed but, even as she did so, she felt that shiver of pain that she had experienced so many times whilst growing up. Papa was joking, of course he was. But she also knew that buried somewhere in that remark was the truth—he did not care for her nearly as much as he did his other four children.
The fire had been lit in the drawing room and peace reigned as Elizabeth played a gentle tune on the piano whilst Mr Darcy turned the pages of her music. Jane sat listening, trying to put images of Archer out of her mind. Even Anne and Bennetta found common ground in discussing exactly who was coming to the dance on the following evening.
The peace was shattered when a peal at the front door bell heralded a footman announcing the arrival of Colonel Fitzwilliam who strode into the room with hardly a sign of a limp, looking fit and well. He was closely followed by Susannah Courtney and Jane just had time to notice she was wearing a very becoming winter coat and feathered hat in a shade of darkamber that suited her far more than her usual grey or dull brown.
Jane had been dreading this meeting, worrying about how the news of Celeste’s betrayal would be received. She loved her godfather dearly and realised all over again just how angry she was at the girl for putting him in this invidious position. The only good thing she could think of was that the engagement had not been officially announced; no one except herself and probably her parents, knew about the liaison and so he would not be held to ridicule by society.
