Page 12 of Blessed Interference (Pride and Prejudice Variations #1)

Drawing Room

Rosings

That Evening

Anne leaned wearily back in her chair, which was the best one in the room, drawn close to the fire because Lady Catherine always saw her daughter installed with an overabundance of cushions and pillows in the warmest spot in any given room.

Depending on how she felt that day, Anne was alternately grateful for and impatient with the smothering.

Today she was grateful for a comfortable seat from which to watch the other inhabitants of the room.

There was little enough else she could do under her mother’s watchful eye, for Lady Catherine was unshakably convinced that Anne was too frail for any of the usual pursuits or accomplishments of young ladies.

Even reading was often judged too strenuous, and while Anne might ask Mrs. Jenkinson, eternally near at hand and ready to please, to read to her, it would be rude in company.

So she sat, with no other occupation but to watch the people around her.

It was fortunate, then, that the people around Anne provided so much interest for her to observe.

Usually, her mother’s guests were as dull as Anne’s own company, if in different ways.

Anne grew weary of watching fawning sycophants flatter Lady Catherine for their own ends.

Mr. Collins, of Hunsford, was one such of these, as he could rhapsodize about Lady Catherine’s kindness, and wisdom, and generosity, until Anne longed to fall asleep just to escape it.

Mrs. Collins, of a far more sensible disposition, did not genuflect upon their patroness as did her husband, though by virtue of that very sense found it expedient to attend to Lady Catherine with more than deserved reverence.

Even now, the couple was farther down the room, ostensibly in conversation with Lady Catherine.

In truth, Lady Catherine was holding forth on a variety of subjects as Mr. Collins and his wife listened, she with a small polite smile and he wide-eyed, visibly drinking in every word like water from heaven.

Anne suppressed a derisive reaction and looked to her other side, where her cousins, Darcy and Richard, and Miss Bennet sat clustered together on a couch, the lady in the middle with the two gentlemen to either side of her.

Their voices were too soft to hear, but the gentlemen were almost comically attentive to Miss Bennet.

Darcy, especially, had eyes only for the lady, and Anne once again exerted effort to control her facial expression lest her mother see and become suspicious.

To anyone who was not Lady Catherine, or perhaps her foolish rector, it was obvious that Darcy fancied Miss Bennet, and quite strongly at that.

It would be a strange match, were it to come through, but that was doubtful, Anne thought.

Darcy was a sober-minded and dutiful young man who took his responsibilities extremely seriously, and he was inclined to look first for connections and wealth in a bride, and Miss Bennet, of course, was notably deficient in both.

In Anne’s opinion, Miss Bennet made up for these deficiencies in her face and manner.

The two young women were not well-acquainted, but as far as Anne had seen, Miss Bennet was kind, and clever, and undeniably lively, and remarkably lovely as well.

She would make Darcy a fine wife if he could be prevailed upon to acknowledge it.

Anne wondered if it was possible for her to convince her wealthy cousin to offer for Miss Bennet.

Realistically, though, she could not do that, as she dreaded being alone with Darcy for even a minute for fear of being on the receiving end of an offer of marriage from the master of Pemberley.

Anne was not at all sure that she was up to weathering the storm that would result when she said no, but even less did she wish to marry Darcy.

He was well enough, but he was almost as quiet in company as she, and with a mix of humor and horror, Anne contemplated a lifetime of marriage in matched, uncomfortable silence in Pemberley’s sitting room.

With any luck, Anne would not need to get involved at all in matchmaking her dour cousin.

On Miss Bennet’s other side sat their best chance for Darcy’s epiphany – the amiable and gregarious Colonel Fitzwilliam.

He was as sensible as he was congenial, and it was obvious from the faint look of amusement and distinct look of approval on his face that he too was aware of Darcy’s fascination with Miss Bennet.

As though sensing Anne’s eyes on him, Fitzwilliam glanced over, and to her surprise, he winked.

Anne’s eyebrows went up slightly in surprise, but then she smiled back, amused and encouraged.

He returned to his conversation, and she took the opportunity to watch him.

Now there was a man she might wish to marry!

Fitzwilliam was as outgoing as she was quiet, and he had always been kind to her.

He was also a strong-willed gentleman, and his time on the Continent in the army had forged his spine to solid steel.

He would not be intimidated by her mother like Anne was or hampered by duty as Darcy may be.

True, he was not handsome, but neither was Anne herself.

He was not wealthy, either, but she was an heiress, with enough money to support them both.

Fitzwilliam had not, admittedly, shown any sign of being interested in her, but Anne would cling to hope.

As long as he was here doing his duty in visiting Lady Catherine, she might yet have some chance to arouse his interest – even if his focus was currently on Darcy’s more or less open courting of Miss Bennet.

Lady Catherine had been watching Darcy and Richard and Miss Bennet for some minutes, and she had obviously reached her limit.

“What is that you are saying?” she suddenly demanded imperiously. “What is it you are speaking of? What are you three speaking of? Let me hear what it is!”

“We were discussing music, madam,” said Richard courteously.

“Music!” the older woman cried out. “Then pray speak aloud. It is of all subjects my delight. I must have my share in the conversation, if you are speaking of music. There are few people in England, I suppose, who have more true enjoyment of music than I do, or a better natural taste. If I had ever learned, I should have been a great proficient. And so would Anne, if her health had allowed her to apply. I am confident that she would have performed delightfully.”

Anne felt a twinge of distress at her mother’s absurd words, and firmly tamped it down as she closed her eyes for a few moments. It was not her fault that Lady Catherine was ridiculous, was it?

“How does Georgiana get on, Darcy?” Lady Catherine continued.

“She plays very well,” Darcy said, reluctantly turning his face away from Miss Bennet to his aunt.

“I am very glad to hear such a good account of her,” said Lady Catherine, “and pray tell her from me that she cannot expect to excel if she does not practice a great deal.”

“I assure you, madam,” he replied, “that she does not need such advice. She practices very consistently.”

“So much the better. It cannot be done too much, and when I next write to her, I shall charge her not to neglect it on any account. I often tell young ladies that no excellence in music is to be acquired without constant practice. I have told Miss Bennet several times that she will never truly play well unless she practices more. And though Mrs. Collins has no instrument, she is very welcome, as I have often told her, to come to Rosings every day and play on the pianoforte in Mrs. Jenkinson’s room.

She would be in nobody’s way, you know, in that part of the house. ”

Anne could not suppress a genuine cringe at these rude remarks, and Darcy paled slightly at his aunt’s bad breeding.

“Speaking of music,” Richard said, smiling genially, “will you not entertain us on the instrument, Miss Bennet?”

“Of course,” the lady replied cheerfully, rising to her feet and making her graceful way over to the pianoforte at the end of the room. Anne, watching her carefully, noted that Miss Bennet did not gaze at Darcy or show any signs of noticing his interest in her.

That was good, as Lady Catherine must not, under any circumstances, realize that her wealthiest nephew was pursuing Miss Bennet.

But as it may be, such indifference was not encouraging since Darcy was, not to put too fine a point on it, awkward in company and often gave offense when he did not wish to.

Miss Bennet was not the sort of woman to marry based on money and connections alone, and if Darcy did not woo her properly, was there any hope for them?

There was not much she could do except pray, and she would, that Darcy would find happiness with another woman.

***

A Different Path

Two Days Later

“I think we owe a debt to Anna and Colonel Fitzwilliam,” Elizabeth said merrily. It was growing easier to walk beside her suitor and more comfortable to have her hand tucked in his arm.

“We do,” Darcy agreed with a chuckle. “Richard is remarkably adept at distracting my aunt, and he also managed to pass your note to me, via Anna, very covertly indeed.”

“Undeniably,” Elizabeth replied with a smile and then grew serious.

“Mr. Darcy, I have an important question. What are your views about my family? I know that my mother and younger sisters behave foolishly on occasion, but I love them dearly. Moreover, I have a wonderful uncle and aunt, the Gardiners, and my uncle is a tradesman. I would never wed a man if it meant I would not be permitted to see them.”

Darcy looked down at the woman he adored and said, “I will not deceive you, Miss Bennet. I have long been proud of my heritage, and yes, my station, and perhaps even a few weeks ago, I would have been inclined to criticize your family’s manners and behavior.

But then I remembered that I insulted you, the lady I love, a few short months ago.

And I remembered that Lady Catherine, the daughter of an earl, asks rude and invasive questions without so much as an iota of awareness that she is acting in a boorish way.

I love Lady Catherine as my relative, but she is, without a doubt, a bombastic lady who believes that she ought to control the lives of all those in her sphere.

Given those realizations, I find myself altogether humbled, and if you do me the honor of accepting my hand in marriage, it will be my honor to count your relatives as my own. ”

Elizabeth tilted her head and said, “Very prettily said, sir, very pretty indeed. Moreover,” and here she lowered her voice, “I agree with you about Lady Catherine. She is very certain of herself, is she not?”

“Very much so,” Darcy said and could not help lovingly pat the delicate hand on his left arm.