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“So you think that, after all this, I have a chance with her?”
“More than a chance,” Anne smiled. “She now has a very different view of you, I assure you.
“It is different for me and Lord Northover. Although I love him, I know that he is only fond of me, and that my fortune is a consideration for him and without it, I could not hope to secure his affection.
“I know too that he will never love me as you love Miss Bennet. I even know that my health is not such that I could ever hope to have a family.
“But at least I have the hope of marrying a man I love, and a man who does not love another, as you do and have done since you met Elizabeth Bennet.”
Darcy looked at his cousin, his childhood friend with whom he had shared so many secrets over the years, and realized that, for as close as they had been, he had not really known her.
“I wish you every happiness, Anne,” Darcy said. “But do you really think that we can overcome all that is against us? It is not just our personal desires, but our responsibilities that are in play.”
“You are concerned with the enclosure of the common, and my mother’s scheme to use that to force you to wed me. Do you think that Lord Northover would go along with that scheme if he were to marry me instead? He has told me already that he would not.”
Darcy could see that she had given the matter much thought and considered things from every angle, but he was still afraid that she had grossly underestimated her mother’s determination.
“You know that your mother will not agree to this of her own volition? She is not to be trifled with, Anne. She may have other cards to play.”
Anne laughed. A joyless, hollow laugh, Darcy thought, but one which nevertheless encouraged him.
“I have been dealing with my mother the whole of my life,” Anne said. “I have a plan that will gain not only her approval but her blessing. And she is so prideful that once she has bestowed it, she would never withdraw it.
“Are you prepared to trust me, Fitzwilliam?”
Chapter 19, Twelfth Night Ball
Twelfth Night, 1813
“Come here, Anne,” Lady Catherine commanded Elizabeth. “Let me straighten that for you.”
Elizabeth complied dutifully, and her Ladyship adjusted Elizabeth’s costume.
“You make a lovely Persephone, Anne,” Lady Catherine said with maternal pride. “Your mask especially suits you.”
Elizabeth curtsied but did not speak.
Although the Prince Regent was not in attendance, it seemed to Elizabeth that every other important personage in society had arrived for the ball.
The Marble Hall was filled to capacity with Harlequins and Columbines, wenches and queens, milkmaids and Highwaymen, and every type of fantastic character Elizabeth could conceive of.
“You do make a lovely Persephone, Anne,” Anne whispered to her.
Elizabeth laughed.
“And you make a charming shepherdess, Elizabeth.”
They had switched costumes as part of Anne’s scheme. Elizabeth had not breathed a word of it to anyone, not even to Jane, for she was afraid that if Jane were to mention it to Mr. Bingley he might inadvertently reveal it to Caroline or Louisa.
Elizabeth saw Jane and Mr. Bingley, who were dressed as Romeo and Juliet. They were talking to a Sultan and Sultana whom Elizabeth knew to be Georgiana and Mr. Pettigrew.
“Mr. Darcy,” said Lady Catherine. “Here is your partner, Anne. Does she not make a beautiful Persephone?”
“Yes,” agreed Darcy. “A very beautiful one.”
He was dressed as Zeus, with a dark red robe on which was emblazoned a lightning bolt, but he had no mask.
“And Lord Northover, here is your partner, sir, this lovely shepherdess is Miss Elizabeth Bennet,” said Lady Catherine presenting her daughter to Northover.
