Expectations: The Transformation of Miss Anne de Bourgh (Pride and Prejudice Continued), Volume 1

by Melinda Wellesley

Chapter Six

  The Fairfax sisters and Saint-Vancomy family were pleased to see Anne return for the next day’s class. Frances confessed that she feared Anne would not attend, and she was ever so grateful that she had, because it was so much jollier with her there. Anne could not put words to how much this simple sentiment cheered her.

  In her honor, they practiced the minuet again. After the previous evening’s dinner, Anne had asked Mrs. Jenkinson to play some minuets for her so she could review the rhythm. When Anne counted out the beat from the safety of her chair, the paused steps made sense. But now that she moved with the music, they baffled her. She forced herself not to worry about errors. She would do her absolute best, but she had determined that she would not be embarrassed about her many mistakes. Monsieur Saint-Vancomy appeared pleased by her change in attitude and encouraged her with no criticism as she counted in her head and concentrated on the feet of the Fairfax sisters. She concentrated so hard, in fact, that it was not until the dance ended that she realized Lady Fairfax had come into the drawing-room. Seeing her mother’s friend sent Anne into a spasm of chagrin, and she hurried to her chair next to Mrs. Jenkinson. Lady Fairfax, however, was all smiles as she approached the two guests. “My dear, how wonderful to see you dancing! But I had the understanding from your mother that you were under a doctor’s orders not to exert yourself unnecessarily with dance.”

  Anne knew that to be just the type of excuse her mother would make on her behalf. “I saw no harm in trying something slow.” Only then did Anne remember Lady Fairfax’s fondness for sharing news, and surely word of this would find its way back to Rosings. She would have to address it with her mother first so it would not be so obvious that she was doing this behind her back.

  Monsieur looked to Anne to see if she wished to try the next dance, but she needed to catch her breath and shook her head. Monsieur announced a review of the spirited dance from the day before, and the reduced group began again.

  Lady Fairfax sat next to Anne and watched her daughters. “It is so pleasing to see the girls making progress. Their former dancing master had none of Monsieur’s grace. The girls will be so much improved this season in London. I shall not be able to keep them off the dance floor!” She regarded Anne with a fond eye. “Will you be coming to London this year? That would be a splendid change, to have you in society.”

  Anne had never thought of that impossible—albeit logical—next step. A hundred doubts flooded her mind. Could she go? Would her mother mock Lady Fairfax’s well-meant suggestion? Would she be able to tolerate the dreadful London air? …Would she face the embarrassment of running into Mr. and Mrs. Darcy in town? “I think not. Perhaps next year.”

  “Well, dear,” said Mrs. Fairfax, “do keep the thought in mind. You never know how things will turn out.”

  After practicing two more sprightly dances, the group stopped for a rest. The sisters came over to Anne and complimented her improvement with the minuet. Emily asked her if she knew what her mother was bringing her from London for her birthday. She had heard from her mother that it would be something special. Anne said she did not, still dreading the possibilities. Frances went into raptures over what she would want for her birthday if she could have anything. “Mamma, I know you think I am silly, but I would so like to travel. Now that we are at peace with Napoleon, so many from England have gone to Europe. What a wonderful idea! I would love to see Paris.”

  “Nonsense,” her mother sniffed. “It is nothing like what it was since the Revolution. There is nothing of value to be seen there now.”

  Frances lamented her mother’s statement. “But I should still like to see it, just the same. How wonderful it would be to go somewhere warm for the winter!”

  Monsieur joined their group. “If I may say, Mademoiselle, the climate in Paris is not much better than here in the wintertime. If you wish to be warm, you must go to the south of France or Italy.”

  Emily and Frances both lit up. “Italy!” Frances exclaimed. “Mamma, how wonderful would it be to travel to Italy!”

  Emily added, “I should very much like to see the city of Pompeii. How intriguing to think of an ancient city buried under the soil like that. Anne, you like history. Would you not like to see it?”

  Anne indeed would like to see that, and so much more. Before this spring’s Treaty of Amiens, there had been no chance to think about going to the continent. Even with peace now at hand, Anne never dared dream of travelling. But to be warm all winter, and to see another country, and be in a place other than the too-familiar confines of Rosings Park, what a pleasant dream. “Yes, it would be wonderful to see a place so rich in history.”

  Both daughters entreated their mother for a trip to Italy over the winter, but Lady Fairfax scoffed at the idea and admonished her girls. “There is no trusting Napoleon. Signing a treaty with him means nothing. War could erupt again at any time. And you do not want to be so far from home when it does!” She looked at the dancing master, whose expression was thoughtful. “Monsieur Saint-Vancomy, you certainly would not go to France, would you? It is not safe.”

  Monsieur nodded with caution. “I would not go, but only because it would bring up too many sad memories for me and Madame. My family lost so much. My sons barely remember the place of their birth. For them, to see their homeland, I would go, but for myself, no.”

  This proved not to be the resounding agreement Lady Fairfax had hoped for, but she would entertain no further entreaties from her girls for so outlandish a scheme and left the drawing-room.

  Emily said, “Oh, Anne, would it not be wonderful if you could go? Just think of it—Italy! Rome, and Florence, and Naples! To be warm all winter! I have heard so many nice things about the climate of Naples from Mr. Fontinelli. We told you about the ice cream shop he owns in Maidstone. You really should go with us to eat there. Although it is past time to eat ice cream this year. Next summer, you must go with us. Surely Lady Catherine will not object. Eating cold food on a warm day is not so very bad for you as she thinks.”

  Anne surprised herself by bristling at the idea that her mother would determine such a minor activity for her. Of course, it was the truth. Her mother objected to a great many things, and as a result Anne did not do them. She had always lived her life that way. Why did her heart protest now?

  The sisters quizzed Monsieur Saint-Vancomy about his travels, and he said he had visited Rome and Naples as a young man. Naples in particular had a fond spot in his heart, because of all unlikely places that was where he had met the woman who became his wife. Madame paged through her music sheets at the pianoforte, but she giggled like a girl at that mention. The sisters wanted to know more, but Monsieur thought their lesson time would be better spent dancing. Anne joined them for a stately dance, and then she watched the rest of the lesson and thought. Being warm, and sitting in the sunshine—what a lovely idea! She pulled her shawl tighter around her shoulders. She hated winter. She hated being cold. She dreaded the coming months for so many reasons. She wanted to get away. She felt no comfort with the idea of staying in France, which so lately had been an implacable enemy, but the lure of Italy could not be ignored. Sunny Italy, warm Italy. It seemed impossible, but was it? If England’s leaders had thought enough of Napoleon’s word to sign a peace treaty with him, and so many people thought it safe to travel to France and the rest of the continent, who was she to think all of them wrong and stay home?

  As Anne and Mrs. Jenkinson traveled back to Rosings, Mrs. Jenkinson talked about the lesson and the cold turn in the weather. Anne did not listen. She thought about Italy. She wanted to go. But she could not plan beyond the one thing that could keep her from going—her mother. Anne could afford the costs, as she had money from her father. She also had the time—even if she needed to travel slowly for her health, it could be done. A winter and spring away from the dark and gloom of Kent would be such a tonic. If only she could convince her mother that it would be for the best.

  If she did convince her mother, would Lady Catherine wa
nt to go with her? That seemed unlikely. Her mother was settled in her life and her routine. She would stay in Kent for the holidays, then go to London for January and February to visit with her family, especially her brother the earl and his sons, and then she would return to Rosings for Lent and to oversee the start of the crops. After Easter she would go to London for several weeks, and then she would come home in time to instruct the tenants about the first haying. Her mother loved the routines of her life. What would she say when…if…Anne told her? She thought of their conversation at dinner the night before her mother left on this trip to London. The Reverend and Mrs. Collins were present, but as usual they offered little in the way of conversation. Lady Catherine had been in a playful mood, talking about her trip and assuring Anne that she would have presents worthy of her daughter when she returned. She then said that if there was anything that Anne wanted, all she had to do was ask and she would provide it. Anne had not been able to think of anything she wanted at the time. Now she wanted something. Surely her mother had something less grandiose in mind, but she had said “anything,” and in front of witnesses. Anne would remind her of this, if she found the courage to speak up.