by Jayne Bamber
“You shall suffer far less than I,” Darcy drawled.
As his cousin plucked up a couple other place cards and began indecisively considering a few more switches, Richard took advantage of Darcy’s distraction to make a couple changes of his own. “Indeed I shall, I am sure,” he muttered. On his left side, he switched Mary’s name with Jane’s, and on his right side he switched Rose’s name with Elizabeth.
***
Lady Anne had the satisfaction of watching her daughter speaking so warmly and naturally with Mary and Jane; it was clear that everyone who had the pleasure of speaking with her was quite delighted. Even William seemed rather warm to her in his own way... eventually.
It had not escaped her notice that her son had avoided Elizabeth for quite some time after her arrival, nor the fact that he had stared at her nearly the entire time. Anne had grown quite inattentive to her conversation with her mother and Phyllis as she caught herself reveling in what she could hear of Elizabeth and William engaging in rather civil repartee with Jane, Rose, and Mr. Bingley.
She suspected she knew what her son was about in inviting his two friends, for with Henry determined to make matches for anyone he could, William must be wishing them to have eligible options who had already at least merited his approval as a friend; it was very sweet of him. And, given the unexpected degree of civility he had shown to Elizabeth, after first giving her some rather harsh looks, Anne hoped that in time he might begin to show Elizabeth the same attentive affection he bestowed on Jane and Mary. After her blissful reunion with Elizabeth, and the wonderful surprise of Christmas holly, Anne had finally begun to let herself hope that this awful rift in their family would at last be healed.
Just before supper was called, Elizabeth approached and offered Anne a gentle smile.
“Hello, sweet girl,” Anne said, reaching out and giving Elizabeth’s hand a quick squeeze as she took a seat nearby. “Are you having a happy Christmas?”
Elizabeth nodded, her smile widening. “It is really wonderful, us all together like this. In truth, I had quite forgotten the feeling, and after all these years I find it almost intoxicating.”
Anne drew nearer to her daughter. “I was so worried about you, dearest. You looked nervous when you came in, but then I saw you speaking with your sisters, and it looked so right, so natural and easy. Are things well between you at last?”
Elizabeth chewed her lip for a moment and then said, “As to Mary, it has never not been well between us. Jane is more reserved than I remember, but I suppose I am more used to Rose’s open temperament now. I think it could be well with us, though I confess I think it must require more effort on my part, to draw her out. I am perfectly willing, and I believe she is as well. I have come to understand why she has changed so much.”
“Oh, Lizzy, that is so good of you to say. I always knew how it would be. You two just had to get there on your own, I suppose.”
“I am sure we shall. Mary is determined, and I know I can count on her to help us along. Mamma, I am so very proud of Mary.”
Anne laughed wistfully. “How she used to vex you when she was a little girl! She followed you around, when you only wanted to play with the older girls; she admired you so much.”
“Yes, I remember. Well, she is welcome to do so now – I shall encourage it.”
“Rose certainly does! She has hardly left your side all night.”
“I must confess, I asked her to. I was nervous. I know William is not fond of me, and I suspect Aunt Catherine is not either. Rose is always so full of praise and reassurance; she is my staunchest defender.”
Anne sighed, and offered her daughter a sad smile. “I am sorry to hear you say such things about William, though I do understand. I think he is beginning to come round, in his way. Would it make anything easier for you if I were to speak to him about it?”
“Oh no, I beg you would not, I should be mortified. I do not wish him to know I am afraid of him. Indeed, I intend to teach myself not to be – my courage shall rise at every attempt to intimidate me!”
Despite Elizabeth’s smirk, Anne knew her daughter to be only partially in jest. “I shall say nothing if you do not wish it,” Lady Anne said.
Elizabeth nodded. “I know you wish us to be a family again – I wish it as well, and I am sure it is all my own fault that we are not – believe me, no one could possibly blame me as much as I blame myself, not even William.”
Anne let out a heavy sigh, sorry to hear her daughter speak in such away. She knew not how to begin to explain to Elizabeth that it was herself who had been the most to blame, perhaps even George and Edward. They had been the adults and Elizabeth a mere child when things had gone so terribly wrong.
She was interrupted from her reverie by the dinner gong, and Rose approached to slip her arm through Elizabeth’s as they prepared to go into the dining room. She was on the point of following them when Sir Edward moved that way and detained her.
Anne met his eye with a hopeful look; they had spoken little that evening. “Anne,” he said, and gestured for her to sit as the rest of their relations began filing into the dining room. He sat down beside her and reached into his coat pocket, withdrawing a rolled piece of paper tied in a red ribbon. “I have a gift for you – I’ve not had time to frame it, as I finished it only yesterday.”
Anne took the gift with curiosity and untied the ribbon, letting the paper slowly unfurl in her hands. The charcoal drawing was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. It was a view of Pemberley, and a very accurate one at that. In the foreground were four figures, a woman and three small girls walking across the front lawn, a field of flowers before them. “Oh, Edward,” she breathed, running her fingers over the illustration of her daughters.
Edward lightly brushed her hand, wiping the charcoal that had gotten onto her fingers. “I shall never forget the first time I saw you walking with them at Pemberley. I knew in that moment that you were destined to be their mother. I think of it often, especially of late. I... I have wanted to tell you for so long....”
“What, Edward?”
“I ought never have changed a thing. It was wrong of me to take Lizzy away, and I am so sorry for the pain it caused you.”
Blinking back tears, Anne looked up from the drawing to meet Edward’s eye. They were quite alone in the drawing room now, and she began to think he might also shed a tear. “Oh, my old friend,” she sighed. “I have long forgiven you for it. I needed those girls so very much when they came into my life – Doctor Johnson told me that having another child of my own might very well kill me. But I knew the same was true for you as well, when you took Lizzy away. It broke my heart, not only to part with my darling girl, but to see how desperately you needed her as a companion in your loneliness.”
“I fear I did her no favors.”
Anne clasped his hand. “Edward, no. Let us look upon the past only as it gives us pleasure.”
He laughed ruefully. “A pretty philosophy. I am glad of your forgiveness; I hope we might be friends again.”
“Of course, Edward... I have always... cared for you.” Anne heard her voice crack as she fought back tears, and he reached into his pocket again to offer her a handkerchief. She dabbed at her eyes, running her thumb over the soft corner embroidered with EG, and then rose to her feet, fearing they had tarried too long.
“I shall have this framed and hung right here in this room,” she said, gesturing with the rolled up drawing as she placed it on a shelf for safekeeping, and tucked his handkerchief furtively into her pocket. Edward offered her his arm and led her into the dining room.
The table was already humming with lively conversation as they made their way in, and Rose, seated nearest them, called out to Edward as they entered the room, gesturing with her eyes to the bough of mistletoe the girls had hung in that very doorway earlier in the week.
Edward turned and looked at Anne with a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as he raised her hand to his lips. She smiled back, and before he co
uld release her hand she stood on her toes and placed a soft, quick kiss on his cheek, and then, for just an instant, hoping no one in the room could perceive it, she tilted her head and let her forehead brush against his.
***
Elizabeth and Rose watched with matching smirks as Lady Anne gave Sir Edward a little kiss on the cheek beneath the mistletoe before taking their seats in the dining room. Near the door, Lady Anne was seated at the head of the table, with Edward on her right side and Rose at her left. Elizabeth was just next to Rose, and though she wished to be directly beside her mother, Lady Anne declared she was delighted to be seated near Rose and have the chance to come to know her better, as she was so important to Elizabeth.
“She is in many ways my opposite, and in some even my superior, I believe,” Elizabeth said with a warm smile at Rose before turning to her mother. “Aside from Charlotte, she is my dearest friend, and I am delighted that you wish to know her better.”
“She is certainly unlike any young lady in England,” Uncle Edward quipped with mirth in his eyes as he raised his brows and took a drink of wine.
As the first course was served, Lady Anne began speaking with Rose and Elizabeth turned to her left, listening to Richard speak across the table to his sister Charlotte.
“I am sure I was not offended, not really,” Charlotte said to Richard, and then she met Elizabeth’s eye. “Oh, Lizzy – before you came into the dining room, what do you think? I was seated beside William, and Aunt Catherine commanded me get up and change places with Anne!”
“I suppose his punishment for allowing such a thing to take place shall be his company over the meal,” Elizabeth whispered, sparing William a roguish glance.
Richard laughed and leaned in toward Elizabeth. “You wish it out of spite, or perhaps because you think one marriage in the family will placate my father for a time.”
Elizabeth arched an eyebrow at him. “Until I have seen this infamous list, I must refrain from comment.”
“Well! And here is my comment for you – as to the matter of cousins, I have the best seat in the house tonight.”
Elizabeth flicked her gaze to Jane and then back to Richard. “I see what you are about.”
He grinned at her. “I would not have it otherwise.” Richard held her eye for a moment and Elizabeth gave him a nod; it seemed they understood one another, and perhaps they needn’t ever say more about it.
As he struck up a conversation with Jane, Elizabeth turned back to Charlotte across the table. Mr. Collins had begun speaking to her about Longbourn, relaying the same general information he had told Elizabeth.
While her mother was speaking with obvious pleasure to Rose and Uncle Edward, Elizabeth indulged in listening to Mr. Collins’s conversation, and upon perceiving he had an audience in her, he began to address her directly.
“The neighborhood is an excellent one – I dine with four and twenty families quite regularly. The foremost family in the area are the Lucases – Sir William Lucas was knighted when I was still a boy, a most jovial man indeed. His son is a great friend of mine and has gone into the church, and the two oldest girls were friends of my sister’s before she married and settled in Ireland. The great estate of the area, Netherfield, is a fine manor indeed, but alas it has been vacant these two years.”
“Why?”
“The previous occupant was my brother-in-law, Mr. O’Rourke, who shortly after marrying my sister, inherited a small but enchanting castle in Ireland, and my sister had a great desire to reside in it. They moved away two years ago, and a fine thing it was for Miss Lucas – poor girl was quite on the shelf, but Amelia took her along to Ireland and just last summer she married a baronet. Her mother, Lady Lucas has talked of little else since then, and I daresay it shall be the same when I return home this spring.”
Jane, who had been speaking softly with Richard, suddenly leaned closer, speaking nearly across him as she looked from Elizabeth to Mr. Collins. “Lady Lucas? Oh my – I remember her!”
“Do you?” Mr. Collins smiled at Jane. “I am sure she shall be glad to hear it. She has always spoken very highly of your late mother, Cousin Jane. They must have been very great friends.”
“I envy my sister’s ability to remember such things,” Elizabeth observed. “I was but three years old – I would not even recognize Longbourn, I am sure.”
“I remember the garden,” Jane shyly observed. “Our mother was very proud of her roses.”
Mr. Collins nodded with enthusiasm, his smile rendering him almost handsome. “Yes! My mother was most diligent in preserving them, which always vexed Lady Lucas – I daresay they enjoyed the friendly competition.”
“You liked the garden too, Lizzy,” Jane said. “There was a prettyish little wildness at the back of it that you liked to run around in, and a swing our father built. You always liked being out of doors, just like at Pemberley.”
Elizabeth felt her eyes misting with tears, though she knew not if it was for the memory of her childhood home, or that which she could not remember of her birth place. Blinking rapidly to disguise her heightened emotion, she addressed Mr. Collins. “And what is your favorite part of Longbourn, Cousin?”
“My goodness, it is difficult to decide. I was always fond of the stables as a young lad. My father and Sir William Lucas shared a venture in breeding horses, and we always had first-rate animals. I was quite a chubby little fellow when first we came, but after a few years of riding – well, it is quite a passion of mine. I am fond of the library, as well. The window is happily situated, affording a fine view of Oakham Mount in the distance, and the collection of books is excellent. I believe your father added substantially to the collection, as most of the books bear his nameplate. Some of them even have the most interesting footnotes and musings scribbled in the margins.”
Seated beside Mr. Collins, Charlotte laughed and looked pointedly at Elizabeth. “That sounds like somebody I know. Who would have thought it was an inherited trait?”
Jane and Richard both laughed. “You do do that, Lizzy,” Jane said.
Richard smirked as he looked between Jane and Elizabeth. “We shall have to make a count of it – which house is more full of books Lizzy has made her mark on – Pemberley or Matlock House? I am sure she has left quite an impression on my sister’s collection of novels – I recall a particularly lurid passage she underlined in Camilla.” He waggled his eyebrows.
“And you were accusing me earlier of misrepresenting myself!” Elizabeth nudged Richard with her shoulder as she joined him and Jane in laughter.
“Ah, but on both occasions it was a virtue you wished to deny,” Jane gently chided her.
“So defacing the property of my relations is a virtue, is it?” Elizabeth grinned, delighted by Jane’s teasing.
Richard laughed as he looked between Jane and Elizabeth. “It is a compliment to you both, I think, that she should find your imperfections so endearing.”
Elizabeth smiled. Certainly it had not always been so, but she was pleased enough that Jane was making the effort, and amongst such lively company she passed the rest of the supper very cheerfully indeed.
***
Dinner was a penance for Darcy, whose gambit to attain some better company for the meal had backfired abysmally. Seated at the end of the table, he did his best to remain civil and attentive to his cousin Anne without giving her any encouragement, and fortunately John, seated on his other side, managed to sustain enough conversation with her that Darcy was often enough at liberty to observe the other conversations taking place at the table without having to participate in any himself.
At the opposite end of the table, which was at some remove due to their large party, his mother was speaking with Sir Edward and Elizabeth, and he begrudgingly admitted to himself that at least she was behaving herself at present, and paying his mother all the attention she deserved.
Beside her, Rose was absolutely radiant. She was speaking chiefly with Mr. Collins, her demeanor playful and yet magnificent as she dre
w in Jane, Richard, and Charlotte, seated between Mr. Collins and herself. Though he was too distant to catch the tone of their conversation, whatever they were discussing had her wholly engrossed. Her eyes sparkled and her mouth was fixed in an artless, serene sort of smile that made him envy the companions that had inspired it.
He was obliged to check himself upon experiencing a little jealousy that he was not seated near enough to her to inspire such rapt attention. She was Olivia’s daughter, after all, and a few months yet from turning seventeen. Even if he had been of a mind for marriage at present, she was surely not a candidate. And yet, what an unexpectedly fine woman she seemed to be. It was clear that Mr. Collins thought so, as well as Richard and even Mr. Bingley, who was eventually drawn into conversation with her, after speaking almost entirely with Mary for the first half of the meal.
Bingley, as usual, seemed delighted with everybody and everything – he had smiles for Mary, Jane, and even Rose. Especially Rose, toward the end of the meal, it seemed. He had been drawn into Mr. Collins’s conversation, and whatever Rose’s contribution to the discussion, Mr. Bingley appeared quite keen to speak with her despite the considerable distance down the table between them. This will not do. Not only was Darcy mortified to find Bingley interested in the same woman who had captivated him – a woman he still considered a child, and would never actively pursue, or even admit to admiring – but he had hoped Bingley would direct his considerable charm toward drawing Jane out. It was time she return to the world of the living.
To his chagrin, Rose was doing a rather impressive job herself of drawing Jane out, often leaning into Richard to speak across him to Jane, who began to do likewise. He watched with satisfaction; whatever his prejudices about Lady Olivia and the two young women she had raised, it did his heart good to see Jane laughing again. He had not seen her converse so openly, so naturally with anybody but Mary and their mother in two long years.
