Robert Darcy, who was about to make a strategic move in his game with Elizabeth, paused and looked up. “I will certainly engage a master for her if I think that she needs it. But you can be sure that my mother, who is very diligent in these matters, has engaged the best master that can be had for her tuition.”
“In Boston?” retorted Lady Catherine. “I cannot believe any American music teacher equal to one engaged in London.”
“Perhaps my mother engaged an English teaching master,” said Robert Darcy with laughter in his voice.
“I think an Italian music master can be hired as well in Boston as in London, Aunt,” said Darcy, “for I believe it is the Italians that excel in this art.”
Lady Catherine waved a hand dismissively. “I do not hold with hiring foreigners to teach young ladies. Nothing good could come of it. Italians in particular are too inclined to incite sensitive young minds to excitement. Was it not last year that young Miss Preston ran off with her Italian teacher? If I were to teach Anne to play, no one but an English music teacher would do for her.”
There was no reply. Satisfied that she was the victor on this point, she turned to the young ladies.
“Which of you will play first? I hope neither of you will hold back, for it is very unbecoming for a young lady who is sure of her accomplishments to pretend to be shy.”
Her remark seemed calculated to make Clarissa hold back obstinately. Georgiana, fearing that her cousin would say something inopportune if pressed by Lady Catherine, quickly offered to play herself.
She sat down and settled her skirts. When she raised her hand to arrange the music, she grew aware of a presence beside her.
“Allow me to turn the pages for you, Miss Darcy.”
She would have preferred Mr Channing, of course, but she could hardly refuse Mr Gatley’s offer.
“Very kind of you, Mr Gatley.”
Her fingers felt stiff as they hovered over the keys. She did not think she would be able to play a single note, not with him standing so near and looking over her shoulder. She was a confident player, but tonight she was unusually self-conscious. She pretended to select another piece of music and shuffled the sheets again, hoping to restore her equilibrium. Again, she gathered her skirts around her. Then she looked towards her audience. Mr Channing gave her an easy smile. The smile steadied her. There was really nothing to worry about. What did it matter if she was aware of Mr Gatley’s presence? She took a deep breath and began to play Kelly’s very popular “March in Bluebeard.”
As the familiar notes rose up and filled the room, she allowed the music to lead her. Even though Mr Gatley leaned even closer to turn the first sheet and a trace of his cologne reached her, still the music took her along, and she followed.
When the last note had dissipated, she rose and awoke to the crack of applause from her small audience.
“Now that is what I would call playing with feeling,” said Clarissa, grinning as she took her place at the piano.
Only then did she try—unsuccessfully—to account for the strange sensations that had assailed her.
Chapter 6
The next morning, Clarissa burst into Georgiana’s bedchamber just as she had finished dressing. Her cousin’s face glowed with excitement.
“You will never guess what has happened!” she said.
A number of unfeasible possibilities ran through Georgiana’s mind, the first being that Mr Channing had proposed to Clarissa.
“Oh, I hate guessing games. I cannot guess, Clarissa. I give up.”
Clarissa, who had hoped to keep Georgiana dangling for a while, was now deflated.
“What will you give me if I tell you?”
“Nothing,” replied Georgiana. “If you will not tell me the news now, I will refuse to hear it.”
“Very well, I will tell you. It is about Miss de Bourgh. I contrived yesterday to give a note to her undetected, and she has answered me! We are to meet her this very morning in the orangery without Mrs Jenkinson!”
More than relieved that it had nothing to do with Mr Channing, Georgiana shared immediately in Clarissa’s excitement. She was by now completely convinced that Anne needed rescuing, and was delighted that Clarissa had managed to set up a meeting so quickly.
“This is excellent news,” she said. “But how is Anne to shake off her keeper?”
Clarissa grimaced. “I do not know. But she is to meet us at eleven, and we only have a few minutes. ’Tis lucky you are dressed, or I would have had to go without you.”
They slipped furtively through the house, not wishing to alert anyone about the direction they were taking. They slipped through the door to the orangery, and immediately the warm thick scent of orange blossoms assailed them.
They peered through the vegetation but found no one.
“She is not here,” said Clarissa, her voice heavy with disappointment.
“I am here,” came a feeble voice in reply.
Anne had chosen a seat in the shade of some citrus trees, where the sun that poured through the glass did not touch her. She sat among the shadows, swathed in various shawls, her hands enclosed in a grey muff.
“We had a hard time finding you, Miss de Bourgh. You certainly know how to choose your spot,” said Clarissa.
“Of course,” said Anne, a smile flickering on her lips.
“We never seem to have a chance to talk to you,” continued Clarissa, “We wanted to take the opportunity to get to know you while we are here.”
Anne threw her an odd look, as though she could not possibly believe such a thing.
“Are you cold, Cousin?” said Georgiana, imagining that the muff must be very warm inside a hothouse.
“I tend to feel the chill more than others,” replied Anne.
“Oh, let us not talk about the cold,” said Clarissa impatiently. “Let us talk about you.”
Anne raised an eyebrow. “About me?”
“Well, I know nothing about you. Georgiana told me you fell sick at the same time as your father and have not recovered your strength since.”
Anne turned her gaze on Georgiana. “Yes, I suppose that is true. You were small then. Just a little girl.”
Georgiana nodded. “Still, I remember that before you fell ill, you used to laugh a lot.”
Anne gazed listlessly into the distance. “I suppose I did. It seems so long ago, I barely remember it.”
It occurred to Georgiana that the fever may have affected Anne’s mind. She spoke in such a monotonous manner that there did not seem to be much point in continuing to question her.
Clarissa, unwavering in her intentions, was not in the least deterred by Anne’s vagueness.
“But you must remember something of your childhood. Georgiana says you used to climb trees.”
A wider smile appeared on Anne’s face. “Yes, I do recall that. I used to throw apples at Fitzwilliam. He was always so proper and fussed so much about his clothes, I could not resist it.”
“My brother?” said Georgiana. “No, it cannot be.” She never recalled her brother fussing.
“He was indeed very particular, though you would not think it now. That was when we were fifteen, of course, and at fifteen one sees the world in a skewed way.” Her face became almost animated. “I rather liked him, at the time, but he was too busy being important and growing up. And he knew his aunt intended us for each other, so I was the last person he wanted to be friendly with.”
“That must have been difficult for you,” said Clarissa.
“Not really,” said Anne. “I pelted apples at him, and it made me feel better. What else do you wish to know?”
“I want to know why you talk to no one and why you keep so much to yourself,” said Clarissa.
In the long pause that followed, Georgiana was tempted to tell Anne that she did not need to answer Clarissa’s questions if she d
id not wish to. She would not have been surprised if Anne had chastised them for prying.
Clarissa shifted in her seat.
“I find lengthy conversation too tiresome,” said Anne.
It was not much of an answer. They were clearly intruding. Really, it was time they left. Georgiana tried to catch Clarissa’s eye.
“I enjoy reading, however,” continued Anne. “I read anything I can lay my hands on. My father’s library, fortunately, is well stocked.”
“But I have never seen you read,” said Clarissa.
“No. My mother does not approve of reading for females. She believes it corrupts the female brain. I read whenever I have a chance, which is often, when we do not have company, for I can always retreat to my chamber to rest.”
“What do you read?”
“Anything, from poetry to botany.”
Clarissa digested this. “But are you not always accompanied by Mrs Jenkinson? Does she know that you like to read?”
“Of course. How could I conceal such a thing from her? But she has not informed my mother.” She rose and rearranged her cumbersome shawls around her. “I must go now, otherwise Mrs Jenkinson will come looking for me.”
“But will you meet with us again? Alone?” insisted Clarissa. “We would like to have your company.”
Again, a smile flickered. “Of course, if you wish it,” said Anne.
She made her way slowly back.
“That was a good beginning,” said Clarissa. “She answered our questions, and she is willing to meet with us again.”
Georgiana hesitated. “I suppose it is an improvement. As you said, she is prepared to meet with us again. But you must not press her for answers—promise me that.”
“I will not,” said Clarissa.
Anne seemed to have appreciated their attempt to reach out to her, for she made it a regular habit to meet with them for a short time every day. This was done stealthily, however, confirming to the young ladies that Anne did not want her mother to know. They would receive a note from a maid or a footman, informing them of a time and place for a meeting. She always seemed to know their plans, for she never set up anything if they were otherwise engaged.
Clarissa did break her promise not to pressure Anne into answering any private questions, but only once.
“How can you bear it?” she asked suddenly, when Anne mentioned something to do with Mrs Jenkinson. “Do you not crave freedom? Do you not long to leave the house whenever you wish and walk wherever you wish, without being followed and reported on all the time? Oh, I could not bear it!”
Anne, to her credit, remained unruffled during this outburst.
“It is a matter of degrees,” she said calmly. “You cannot leave the house whenever you wish, nor go out without an escort of some kind. You have the freedom of the grounds, perhaps, but you cannot venture too far on your own.”
She paused when one of her shawls slipped, and she rearranged it carefully, making sure not to disturb the others.
“Even if you were allowed complete freedom to go where you wish, whenever you wish, then you would still be restricted, for you would be open to attack any time by unscrupulous persons. We live in a world where the strong prey upon the vulnerable. If that were to change, then perhaps we would be completely free. But for now, we must live with what we have. We women have always had restrictions placed upon us, and we have dealt with them as best we could.”
Clarissa did not ask Anne any private questions again. Instead, they found themselves discussing books they had read and exchanging opinions on poetry and art. Georgiana discovered an Anne she had never imagined existed, who not only had a breadth of knowledge, but also strong opinions on the things she read.
It was difficult to reconcile this opinionated young lady with the pale, quiet daughter who sat in the drawing room under her mother’s eye. Georgiana rapidly concluded that, while Lady Catherine may not have locked her daughter in a dark tower, she had certainly driven Anne to hide her true self from the world.
***
Two days later, two ladies called on them, since Lady Catherine had graciously informed the gentlemen that they were welcome to do so. One was Mrs Gatley and the other Mrs Channing.
Mrs Channing was a tall, wiry lady whose clothes did not fit her. They rode up and appeared loose in all the wrong places. Her hunched shoulders amplified this impression. She took a few cautious steps into the drawing room and set about to express her elation at Lady Catherine’s generosity in inviting them to call. While she spoke, she looked about her a great deal, as though she wanted to remember any changes to the room so that she could report them to her friends.
“One is very conscious of the privilege, Lady Catherine, especially when you already have a household of guests to entertain.”
Lady Catherine inclined her head graciously and waited for Mrs Gatley to approach.
Mrs Gatley, like her sister, was a tall lady. Unlike her sister, however, she seemed to have employed a skillful modiste. She wore a striking purple walking dress with a white ruffled collar and gold braiding. She paused in the doorway, surveyed everyone present, then swept into the room with confident grace.
“Good morning, Lady Catherine,” she said, her musical voice carrying across the room. “I have not seen you for some time. We shall have to arrange a vingt-et-un party one of these days at Ansdell.”
“Certainly,” said Lady Catherine haughtily. “But we would do better to have it here, since the drawing room at Ansdell tends to be draughty.”
“Then I take it you do not wish to receive an invitation, when I send them out?” enquired Mrs Gatley politely.
Lady Catherine fixed a stony gaze on her. “Of course I wish to receive one. I can always decline if I do not wish to attend.”
Mrs Gatley inclined her head politely and went to sit next to Elizabeth.
“The baby is doing well, I hope?” she asked.
Elizabeth’s face brightened.
“He is doing more than well, thank you,” said Elizabeth. “Only I feel I do not get enough time with him, for he is always with Nurse.”
“I felt the same,” said Mrs Gatley. “I used to creep up to the nursery at odd times to see my children, especially my eldest daughter. Nurse had quite an easy time of it, for I used to give her time off, just so I would have the excuse of spending time with them.”
“That is the worse thing you can do to a child, especially to a boy,” said Lady Catherine. “You will spoil him, and then when it comes to sending him off to school, he will have a most difficult time, and be picked on by the other boys. They must learn to be independent from infancy.”
“I am not even sure it is necessary to send them off to school at all,” said Elizabeth.
This radical opinion earned a disdainful look from Lady Catherine.
“That is what comes from having been raised without even as much as a governess between five girls. You will learn soon enough what it means for a boy to be an heir to a fortune, and how necessary it is for him to mingle with other males in his social class in order to take his proper place in society.” She gave a scornful laugh. “Or did you think to teach him this yourself?”
A militant look entered Elizabeth’s eye. Georgiana groaned inwardly. There was going to be trouble.
“I am inclined to agree with Mrs Darcy,” said Mrs Gatley serenely. “I think it is cruel to send boys away when they are so young and to have them grow up without a mother’s influence.”
“A mother’s weakness must never be allowed to affect the child’s future,” said Lady Catherine repressively. “A mother must be strong, in order for the child to be strong. There are mothers, however, who put their own feelings above their child’s interest, and that can only lead to ruin.”
Mrs Channing, who had become decidedly uncomfortable when her sister had spoken, now nodded in agreement.
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“Yes, a mother cannot be selfish. I would have liked to have kept my dear Percy at home, for he was my only child, you know, and with his father away—it quite broke my heart. But I overcame my feelings and sent him away, and look how well he has turned out! Even if he spends most of his time in London and I see very little of him.”
Caroline seized the opportunity to turn the conversation.
“Does Mr Channing take lodgings year round in Town, or do you have your own townhouse there?”
“We have a townhouse, but with my husband in India—he is with the Company, you know—and no daughters to bring out, I am little inclined to go there,” said Mrs Channing. She had one of those voices that gave the impression of some great grievance, even when she was talking of an ordinary matter. “We open it up whenever Mr Channing comes to England, of course. Percy prefers his own lodgings.”
With the conversation safely settled on more mundane matters, Caroline made an observation about the unsettled weather they were having.
“Yes—the weather has turned quite cool again,” complained Mrs Channing. “I had hoped it would be warmer.”
Georgiana, who had wanted to speak for some time, but could not contribute to a conversation about children, was glad of the change of subject, and pointed out that at least it had been generally dry and that they had had several warm days as well.
“But that is precisely what I object to,” replied Mrs Channing. “If the weather had stayed cold, then we would have resigned ourselves to it, but when it is so inconsistent, promising sunshine and blossoms one day, and flurries of snow the other, then how are we to react? Why only the other day I went out wrapped in a cloak with fur trimming, and with an ermine muff besides, and what do you think happened? The sun came out, and the weather turned warm, and I grew so hot in my cloak I was forced to throw it off.”
At this moment, Lady Catherine called Georgiana and asked her to hand out tea cups to the ladies. She had fallen into the habit of ignoring Clarissa when it came to this task, as though not liking tea could hinder a person’s ability to pass round the teacups.
The Darcy Cousins Page 6
