Page 32 of Intrigue and Inheritance (Crime and Consequences #3)

The Matlock drawing room glowed with the warm light of dozens of candles as Anne settled herself in a comfortable chair near the pianoforte.

From this vantage point, she could observe the various social currents flowing through the room while remaining sufficiently unobtrusive to avoid unwanted attention.

It was a skill she had perfected over years of silent attendance at her mother’s gatherings, though the purpose had changed.

Once she had sought invisibility out of self-preservation; now she watched with genuine interest, finding herself increasingly invested in the lives and relationships unfolding before her.

Georgiana and Mr. Townend had positioned themselves near the instruments, their heads bent close together as they discussed some detail of the music they would perform.

Despite the genteel murmur of conversation filling the room, Anne could discern snatches of their exchange, noting how Mr. Townend’s usual social awkwardness melted away entirely when discussing musical matters.

His hands moved with surprising grace as he indicated passages in the sheet music, while Georgiana responded with quiet confidence that stood in marked contrast to her typical reserve.

“The adagio requires restraint,” Mr. Townend was saying, “but not emotional withdrawal. The notes must breathe between the phrases, like a conversation between trusted friends.”

Georgiana nodded, her fingers already moving slightly as though practicing the passage. “I think I understand your interpretation. The piano not merely accompanying but responding to the violin’s narrative.”

Anne found herself fascinated by this glimpse into a shared passion that transcended the usual barriers of social interaction.

How interesting that Georgiana, who often struggled to conduct conversation that went beyond polite pleasantries with most acquaintances, could engage so articulately when the subject touched something she truly cared about.

There was a lesson there, perhaps, about the transformative power of genuine interest.

Lady Matlock called for the company’s attention, announcing the first performance of the evening.

Conversation subsided, and Anne watched as Georgiana took her place at the pianoforte, her posture perfectly straight as always but her bearing somehow carrying more assurance than it had just weeks earlier.

Mr. Townend stood nearby, violin positioned on his shoulder with the casual comfort of long familiarity.

A moment of silent communication passed between them, and then Georgiana’s fingers touched the keys.

The music began softly, the piano’s introduction setting a contemplative tone that the violin soon joined, adding layers of emotional complexity.

Anne had never learned to play an instrument, but she thoroughly enjoyed musical performances and even she could perceive the remarkable harmony between the two musicians, the way they seemed to anticipate and complement each other with natural ease.

More striking still was the transformation in Georgiana herself.

The shy girl who often appeared overshadowed by stronger personalities had disappeared entirely, replaced by a young woman of genuine artistic conviction.

Each phrase was rendered with thoughtful precision, yet there was nothing mechanical about her playing.

Instead, it conveyed deep feeling without sentimentality, supported and enhanced by Mr. Townend’s responsive violin.

As the music progressed, Anne’s gaze drifted across the room to where Kitty sat with Viscount Shandly, not paying attention to the music and engaged in their own quiet conversation.

Unlike the musicians’ quiet intensity, their interaction sparkled with animated energy.

The viscount was describing something with characteristic dramatic flair, his hands sketching expansive shapes in the air while keeping his voice appropriately modulated for the musical performance.

Kitty listened with bright-eyed attention, her expression suggesting both genuine enjoyment and a hint of knowing amusement.

When the viscount concluded whatever tale he was sharing with a particularly elaborate gesture, she covered her mouth to suppress a delighted laugh, her eyes meeting his with unmistakable affection.

Anne watched this exchange with growing insight.

There was something quite deliberate in Kitty’s enthusiastic response, a conscious choice to encourage the viscount’s theatrical tendencies while simultaneously communicating her genuine appreciation of his company.

It was, in its way, as much a performance as the music being played, yet grounded in authentic connection rather than mere social convention.

The relationship unfolding between them seemed surprisingly well-matched, despite their very disparate ranks.

The viscount clearly thrived on having an appreciative audience for his outlandish stories and excessive personality, while Kitty appeared to genuinely enjoy both his entertainment value and the glimpses of sincerity that occasionally emerged beneath the flamboyant exterior.

How different these developing attachments were from what Anne had always been led to expect of marriage.

At Rosings, her mother had spoken of matrimony solely in terms of advantage and connection, with compatibility of temperament considered entirely irrelevant.

Lady Catherine’s own marriage, as Anne vaguely recalled, had been one of those perfectly suitable alliances where the principals led largely separate lives, united only by property and surname.

Yet here were two couples demonstrating something altogether different: shared passions in Georgiana and Mr. Townend’s case, and complementary temperaments in Kitty and the viscount’s.

Both relationships contained genuine affection alongside whatever practical considerations might exist, suggesting possibilities Anne had scarcely dared to contemplate for herself.

Could she find similar happiness with Lord Joseph?

The question formed in Anne’s mind with unexpected clarity.

His poetic excesses and theatrical mannerisms had initially struck her as ridiculous, yet there was undeniable warmth in his attention.

Unlike the marquess, whose cold calculations regarding the financial advantages of their potential alliance were transparent despite his polished manners, Lord Joseph seemed genuinely interested in Anne herself.

Their conversation about herbal remedies had revealed both unexpected knowledge on his part and a willingness to value her own experiences and opinions.

No one had ever asked about her herb garden before, let alone shown interest in her careful observations of various plants’ medicinal properties.

Most remarkably, Lord Joseph had listened to her responses with genuine attention rather than the polite forbearance she typically encountered when venturing an opinion.

The music came to its conclusion, drawing Anne from her contemplation.

As applause filled the room, she found herself wondering whether she might be capable of the kind of happiness she observed in others.

Her entire life had been defined by limitation and restriction, her worth measured primarily by her inheritance rather than her character or capabilities.

To be seen, truly seen, as a person of value beyond Rosings Park seemed almost too much to hope for.

Yet the evidence before her suggested that such connections were indeed possible.

Georgiana had found someone who appreciated her musical soul.

Kitty had discovered a companion who matched her joy in life.

Elizabeth and Darcy had forged a partnership based on mutual respect and genuine affection.

If they could find such matches, might Anne herself not hope for something beyond the cold alliance her mother had always envisioned for her?

The marquess, observing her from across the room, offered a slight bow when their eyes met, his expression betraying nothing beyond proper social acknowledgment. The gesture conveyed ownership rather than appreciation, as though he had already catalogued her among his future possessions.

A movement beside her drew Anne’s attention as Lord Joseph approached, his expression unusually subdued following the music.

“Beautiful performance, was it not?” he said softly, taking the vacant seat beside her.

“Though I confess, I found myself thinking of our conversation about botanical illustrations throughout. Your observations were far more engaging than even the finest Mozart.”

The simple honesty of the statement, delivered without his usual poetic flourishes, touched Anne more deeply than any elaborate compliment might have done.

Perhaps happiness was not so impossible after all, she thought, offering him a small smile in return.

Perhaps it might be found in the most unexpected places, with the most unexpected people, if one were only brave enough to recognise and reach for it.

As the evening progressed, Anne found herself momentarily separated from Lord Joseph when he was called away to settle a minor dispute regarding the authorship of an Italian poem being discussed by several gentlemen.

She had barely taken two steps toward where Georgiana stood near the refreshment table when the Marquess of Byerly appeared before her with the calculated precision of a chess player advancing a well-considered piece.

His timing, as always, was impeccable, suggesting he had been watching for precisely such an opportunity.

“Miss de Bourgh,” he said, executing a bow of precise depth, neither too familiar nor too formal. “How fortunate to find you without your usual poetic shadow. I had begun to fear we might not have an opportunity for meaningful conversation this evening.”