The Choices Series: Pride and Prejudice Novellas

by Leenie Brown

  “I was sorry to hear of your father’s passing,” Alex said softly.

  “Thank you,” she whispered and bowed her head so that she could not see the understanding in his eyes. Of course, he knew how dearly she had loved her father, for she had spoken of it to him on more than one occasion.

  As Alex watched her fidget with the napkin in her lap and draw silent deep breaths, he began to reason out her refusal just a bit as a particular conversation came to mind, a conversation that had caused her to act as she was now.

  “He wanted to take me to Bath to see the assembly rooms, and I wished for him to take the waters, but my mother will not allow it,” she had fumed as they road the length of a long field near Rosings.

  The comment had shocked him. Anne’s father had been ill for several months — three, at least. It did not appear to be anything grave or oversetting but rather a general attitude of malaise.

  “Why?” he had asked.

  “My uncle requires assistance, and so the money that father had set aside for our journey had to be given to Lord Matlock.”

  She had fidgeted with the reins in her hands and drawn several deep breaths as quietly as she was now. Then she had continued.

  “Lord Matlock must not be refused. He is an earl after all, and my father is merely a baronet. The will of one comes before and at the expense of the other.” She shrugged. “It is just the way things are and always will be.”

  She had then clucked to her horse and galloped ahead of him, and the topic was at an end. She would not return to it, no matter how many times and in how many ways he had attempted to broach it again.

  Alex leaned close to his friend and whispered. “I had not considered, when playing, how a pawn might feel being used at the expense of the more powerful pieces on the board.”

  Jonathan’s brows furrowed.

  Alex tipped his head toward Anne, just slightly. “I was thinking of how you accused me of protecting my knight above all, and I began to consider how the other pieces might view such treatment. The pawns would think nothing of it as that is the way of rank.” He shrugged. “Perhaps, I might win more games if I treated the pawns as carefully as I did the pieces of rank such as the knight.”

  Jonathan’s brows remained furrowed.

  “It is as you said. There is often a reason for every action.” He smiled at his friend’s continued look of confusion. “I am sure you will see what I mean eventually,” said Alex, turning back to his meal.

  “You play chess?” asked Anne.

  Alex nodded. “I do. I do not play well, but I do play. Do you?”

  “On occasion,” replied Anne.

  “My brother is quite good,” interjected Georgiana. “I have beaten him once, but I think he allowed it.” She giggled and leaned forward as she whispered, “Elizabeth is helping me learn, so that he will not need to allow me to win next time.”

  “And is Mrs. Darcy a good player?” Jonathan asked.

  Georgiana smirked. “My brother does much more huffing and shushing when he plays her than when he plays me.” Her three companions chuckled at this. “I have often thought the pawns were the bravest,” she added. “They march forward into battle with little power to protect themselves, but always with the intent of protecting their king.” She shrugged. “I find that brave.”

  “I had not considered it as such,” said Jonathan, “but I would have to agree.”

  “I would not choose to be a pawn, however,” Georgiana replied with a smile. “I am not so very brave.”

  “And what piece would you be?” asked Alex.

  Georgiana pursed her lips and furrowed her brow. “I had not considered it.”

  “I would be the queen,” said Anne. “She can move as she wants and holds great power. The others will often protect not only the king but the queen as well, and,” she lifted her fork as she made her point, “a pawn will march his way across a board, facing danger at every move, just to become a queen.”

  “I should not like to be the queen,” said Georgiana softly. “I would not wish such a great responsibility.”

  “Responsibility?” questioned Anne.

  Georgiana nodded. “If the queen is captured, does she not put every other piece in greater danger, including the king?” She blushed. “I like to imagine the king and queen love each other.” She made the admission quietly. “I should hate to place any I love in danger.” She was quiet for a moment. “I have changed my mind,” she said finally, “I think I should like to be a pawn, bravely defending those she loves — if only I could be so brave.”

  Alex nodded thoughtfully. “I still would wish to be the knight.” He smiled. “Not only would I then get to defend my king and queen with my life, but I would also get to ride a horse while doing so.”

  His tone may have been light, nearly a laugh, but the intensity with which he looked at Anne was far from light. She understood his meaning. Somehow he had figured out that she wished for protection and was offering it to her. The thought startled her, but she joined the others as they laughed at his comment while inside, her stomach was twisting with that peculiar knotted feeling once again, and her heart ached. Regret. She could no longer deny that it was indeed regret. Her breath caught in a small gasp.

  Alex heard it and opened his mouth to ask her if she was well.

  Anne held his gaze and sadly shook her head. Then, pushing her chair back, she rose quickly and excused herself, hurrying to exit the dining room before the tears that gathered could spill down her cheeks.

  Chapter 10

  Anne found a corner in the library and curled into the lonely chair that sat there. The realization that what she had sought for years lay within her grasp if she were not too fearful to grasp it washed over her and ran down her cheeks. He would love her. He would fight for her. She had seen it in his eyes. If she were honest with herself, which seemed to be what her mind desired to be at this moment, she had known it when he had found her on the balcony not far from this room during the ball. And then, she had been reassured of the fact when he sat on the steps at Matlock House, insisting that he be allowed to see her. Yet, he did not force her into any decision. He did not take from her the right to decide as others had tried to do. She refused to think further and gave herself over to her tears.

  It was some time later that a hand gently shook her shoulder. She opened her eyes to find Elizabeth standing next to her.

  “Is the chair large enough for two?” Elizabeth asked.

  Anne straightened and slid over to the left, leaving just enough room for Elizabeth to squeeze in next to her. It was a cozy fit, but not uncomfortable. In fact, it felt quite welcoming to be so snugly fit. It was one of the things she had enjoyed about getting to know her new cousins and their sisters. There was always an arm to be held, a hug to be given, or a smile to be shared. They were things she had not experienced before and had come to enjoy quite thoroughly.

  “This is like when I sit with my sisters sometimes,” Elizabeth commented. “Chats, when tucked in so closely, are really the best sort.” She placed a hand on top of Anne’s and gave her a questioning look, waiting for a small nod of Anne’s head before wrapping her hand around Anne’s. “You are distraught, and I am here to listen. A lady must not bear all her own burdens, or she becomes easily overwhelmed.” She paused and leaned just a little closer to Anne as she whispered, “You may tell me yours. I promise I am very good at keeping secrets. It is Mr. Madock?”

  Anne sighed and nodded but was unable to put her jumbled thoughts into words.

  “May I tell you a secret?” Elizabeth smiled at Anne. “I am expecting a child. I have told few of it — only Mary, Kitty, Jane and now you.”

  “Not Darcy?” Anne asked in surprise.

  Elizabeth shook her head. “I will soon. Perhaps after Kitty’s wedding. I do not wish to detract from her day.” She shifted a bit in the chair. “I shall not be able to sit so snuggly before long.”

  Anne laughed lightly and agreed.

  “I m
ust tell you something else that only a few know.” She laughed. “Actually, it was Mary who made me realize it. She is quite wise. You see, I became betrothed to my husband against my wishes. I thought him proud and unfeeling. I had heard him say something unflattering about me and allowed it to injure my pride, and when a lady’s pride is injured, she is not always wise in her actions, and I was not wise. I listened to gossip about him and looked for things to criticize. I begged my father not to force me to accept him. I was certain that my life was doomed to be unhappy. But, I was wrong, very, very wrong. I soon learned that the man I was bound to was not at all the one I thought him to be, and though I was loath to admit it, I soon grew to love him.” She sat a bit straighter in the chair and cleared her throat with a little cough. “I am going to ask you some questions that Mary asked me. I do not know your heart or the full story of your acquaintance with Mr. Madock, but they may help you just the same. You need not speak, a simple nod will suffice.”

  Anne nodded, and Elizabeth began.

  “Is Mr. Madoch an honourable man?”

  Anne thought of her interactions with him in the past and the night he had rescued her from Mr. Blackmoore on the balcony and nodded. “I believe he is,” she said.

  “Is he solicitous of your feelings?”

  Anne nodded quickly.

  “And he cares for you, does he not?”

  Again, Anne nodded.

  “Do you fear he will ever treat you ill?”

  Anne cocked her head to the side and shook it slowly. “I think him incapable of doing so,” she admitted.

  Elizabeth lowered her voice. “This is the most important question. Will you be content to be parted from him and given to another?”

  Fresh tears sprang to Anne’s eyes at the thought. She shook her head. “But he is of little standing.”

  Elizabeth wrapped her arms around Anne. “Standing has almost nothing to do with happiness or love,” she said softly. She squeezed Anne just a bit more tightly before releasing her and adding, “You must examine your heart and do what it says.” She wiggled her way out of the chair. “The gentleman will be joining us soon in the drawing room. I should be there, so Darcy does not worry.” She looked down at Anne. “Will you join us?”

  Anne nodded. “In a moment.”

  “Very well, but I must warn you that several others will come looking for you if you do not.”

  Anne smiled as Elizabeth left the room. It was comforting to know that there were others who cared about her wellbeing. She stood and walked to the terrace door. It was a cool evening but not too cold, so she pushed the door open and stepped outside. A bit of fresh air might help dry her tears and freshen her face.

  “Miss deBourgh?”

  She looked down at the gentleman standing in the garden. “Mr. Blackmoore. Why are you not with the other gentlemen?”

  “And why are you not with the other ladies?” he replied.

  “I needed some air.”

  “So did I.” He came to stand just below where she was. “I wish to apologize,” he said. “I behaved poorly the last time we met.”

  A snort of laughter escaped Anne. “I should say you did.” She tilted her head to the side and raised a brow. “You wish me to believe you are reformed?”

  He shook his head. “I am not sure I am reformed, but I am betrothed. It seems it is rather difficult to earn the trust of a lady or her relations when one has acted inappropriately and been cut by someone like Rycroft, so while you may not believe this, I have decided to take my betrothal with some seriousness. Miss Bingley seems my only hope for pleasing my father.” Indeed, Blackmoore had called on Miss Ivison, but despite her protests to always be home to a friend, he had found himself unwelcomed by her father. In fact, the veracity of the gossip concerning the difficulty in finding any who would accept him had been proven true when he was turned away from calling on two more ladies.

  Anne snorted again. “Have you dismissed your mistress?”

  He gave one sharp nod. “For now, at least. Whether it stays that way or not has yet to be seen.”

  Anne shook her head and rolled her eyes. At least, he would not be her problem. “How considerate of you,” she said dryly.

  He shrugged. “I did say that I might not be reformed.”

  “In case you were wondering, I will not marry a man with a mistress, nor will I become one.”

  Blackmoore laughed. “I would not attempt to suggest such. I felt the way Madoch protected you the last time we met, and I have endured his glares all evening.” He shook his head as he continued to chuckle. “No, no, he is not someone with whom I wish to tangle. I fear I would not win.”

  The comment surprised Anne. “I beg your pardon, but I do not understand your meaning. What exactly makes a man who cares for horses someone who must be feared?” Alex was not a small or retiring man, but he was not a brute either. How he could inspire such a reaction in a gentleman who was his superior in rank was beyond her comprehension.

  Blackmoore laughed once again. “His connections, my dear, his connections. It is not that he cares for horses but for whose horses he cares.”

  “His uncle?” The question leapt from her lips and with a tone that spoke of her utter disbelief.

  Blackmoore shook his head. “Not unless his uncle is heir to the throne.” He gave her a slight bow and walked off toward another open door.

  Anne’s mouth hung open for some minutes. “No, surely not,” she said as she turned toward the open door of the library. “No, he could not be responsible for those horses.” She closed the door behind her.

  “You are well?”

  Anne jumped at the sound of Rycroft’s voice. “I may not be now,” she scolded as he apologized for having startled her.

  “Mr. Madoch has left.” Rycroft extended his arm to her. “The drawing room should be safe.”

  “Why did he leave? You did not toss him out did you?”

  “You were speaking to him and then became distraught. What did you think I would do?”

  Anne gasped in horror. “Oh, no, he did nothing to upset me. My distress was of my own creation. I have had a rather trying day.” She shook her head and gripped his arm tightly. “You must go fetch him back. Oh, I feel dreadful.” She held a hand to her forehead.

  “I did not send him packing,” admitted Rycroft.

  “Then why did you say you did?” Anne pulled her arm away from him. “Oh, you are so vexing!” She stamped her foot.

  Rycroft smiled. “He left of his own accord — a summons or some such thing.”

  “A summons? What has happened?”

  Rycroft sighed. “I knew I would not be good at this, but Mary insisted I speak to you. It seems a horse was injured earlier today, and his expertise was needed. I do not know why it must be him, but then why does Prinny do half the things he does?” Rycroft’s eyes grew large, and he clapped his mouth shut quickly.

  “So, it is true? He tends to the royal horses?”

  Rycroft nodded. “I was not to tell you.”

  “You did not. Mr. Blackmoore did.” She turned toward the terrace door. “Just now, before you startled me, I was speaking to him in the garden.” She spun back toward her cousin. “Why was I not to know? Why would he not tell me?”

  Rycroft sighed once more. “He did not wish for you to choose him for his position or his wealth, about which I am also not supposed to tell you. However, I will say that it is not an insignificant figure.”

  Anne blinked, and her mouth dropped open slightly.

  “Look,” said Rycroft taking her arm again and leading her to a chair. “I am sure I will bungle this, but I will at least make an attempt to explain.” He let her take a seat and then paced before her. “When a man loves a woman, he will do nearly anything to secure his happiness, but he would not do it at the expense of hers. A man of sense who wishes a marriage based on affection often waits to see if he has a chance of success, that she might care for him, before he acts. Madoch is little different. If Madoch had
told you of his standing, you might have selected him based solely on that information, and he would never know if you cared for him or his position. And it is important to men such as Madoch that their wives prefer them above all else.” He sat on the edge of the seat across from her. “Do you understand?”

  Anne nodded slowly. “I believe I do, but I have always loved him.”

  Rycroft’s took her hands. “But not enough,” he said softly, “and that is what he wished to know now. That you loved him enough to look past his position and accept him as a second son with a small inheritance and a love of horses.”

  Anne nodded. Her stomach twisted again with regret, and tears threatened to fall. It was not that she had not loved him enough, it was that she had allowed her fears to overwhelm that love. She had allowed her heart to be overruled by her head. It was not something she would do again. If only she could see him and tell him.

  “Shall I call for the admiral’s carriage?” Rycroft was looking at her in concern.

  She nodded again. “Yes, please. I find I am not well after all.”

  ~*~*~*~

  Anne held the second of two returned letters in as many weeks. She tore open the seal to the letter that accompanied it and plopped into a chair. Her eyes scanned the brief contents of the missive. Alex was not in Brighton according to his uncle. She tossed the letters on the table and rested her head against the back of her chair, desperation began to worm its way up and around her heart. She had called at Lord Brownlow’s the day after the dinner at Rycroft’s. She had wanted to tell Alex of her change of heart, of her willingness to consider him no matter his circumstances, but he had been gone, without a word, save that he had business.

  She sighed and rose to complete the few things she needed to do before she left Matlock House. Her cousin would marry the day after tomorrow, and then, she would return to Rosings and settle into life with her mother. She groaned at the thought. Perhaps she could visit her cousins frequently and avoid spending too much time with Lady Catherine. Darcy would soon have a child. She could help care for the infant. Was that not what spinster relations did? Surely, Rycroft or Richard would add to the number of new family members soon. And perhaps, since Jane was so obliging, she might be willing to allow Anne to visit and tend any Bingley offspring. She would hold that as a last hope, however. She had very little desire to spend any length of time with Miss Bingley or Lord Blackmoore.