Anne felt desolate when she contemplated being parted from Pierce, as she knew she would be, but also in a perverse sort of way, counted herself fortunate. She now knew the blissful agony of being totally and completely in love with a man even if that love was totally one-sided. Many ladies never got to experience that joyful state at all and so Anne would make the most of the time remaining to her with Pierce and then settle down with the husband her mother chose for her without complaint.
She was confident she could do that because no one—not Mama, not the man she chose for her husband—no one could take away her precious memories. It didn’t matter who Mama chose to become master of Rosings because it was not his face she would see in the familiar rooms. Images of the only face she cared about were locked away within the safe capacity of her heart where no one could reach them except her.
Her mental perambulations made her forget about getting lost and she continued to walk on, more confidently now, turning right without having to think about it. It was with a small gasp of triumph that she unexpectedly emerged into the clearing with the statue of Pegaz dominating it. Pierce was already there, a lock of dark hair falling across his brow as he concentrated on the sketch he was working on, presumably of Pegaz. Her heart lightened. He had recalled her wish to capture the statue’s likeness and had thoughtfully lured her here for that purpose.
He looked up when a twig snapped beneath her foot, put his pad aside and stood up, sending her an enticing smile.
“You found your way. I knew you would manage it.”
Anne felt tongue-tied and shy. She had always been that way in the past, but it was a situation that seldom happened when she was with Pierce because they always seemed to have so much to say to one another.
“Yes, I just kept turning right.” she replied, glancing at her feet because her heart was overflowing and she knew that if she looked at him she would give herself away.
“I am sorry if my invitation appeared mysterious but I was anxious to see you and knew if we met anywhere else, Mr. Collins would most likely find us.”
Anne managed a brief smile. “Undoubtedly.”
“Come and sit down.”
He held out a hand and Anne slipped hers into it. The moment she felt his warm skin against her un-gloved hand, his long fingers curling around her palm, her nervousness left her and she was able to meet his eye.
“Are you drawing Pegaz?” she asked.
“No.”
He seemed distracted and unsure of himself, which was highly unusual. “Then what?”
He put the pad aside and didn’t answer her. “Colonel Fitzwilliam was successful,” he said, staring at a point somewhere beyond the silent statue.
“Yes, and I am glad for it.”
“You realise what that means?”
“Of course.” Anne clutched her hands together in her lap and shivered. “We will perform the play tonight and then tomorrow the colonel and I must face Mama’s wrath.”
Pierce stood up and paced up and down in an obvious state of agitation. Anne wanted to reassure him and opened her mouth to do so, but closed it without speaking. She was unable to find the right words. There was little she could say that would make him feel any better about his future other than that her mother would give him a character. But would she? Now that she had wilfully disobeyed her, Anne was unsure if she would keep her word, and was unwilling to offer assurances she wasn’t in a position to keep. Fidgeting, she waited for him to speak again.
“My timing is deplorable, I know that perfectly well.” He stopped directly in front of her and ran a hand through his hair. The thick, sleek locks fell directly back into place again, gleaming, unruffled. “I am asking the impossible but cannot seem to help asking it anyway. If, as I suspect, I am to be disappointed, I would prefer to know it now.”
To Anne’s utter astonishment, he fell to one knee in front of her and took her hand. “Will you do me the honour of becoming my wife, Anne?” he asked, his gorgeous eyes filled with uncertainty.
He looked up at her with a convincing display of adoration. Anne was too shocked and too angry with him to make any response. In spite of her best efforts to conceal them, he must have picked up on her feelings for him and was exploiting them to his own advantage. His cruelty took her breath away. She had not thought him so hard-hearted. It was not her he wanted of course, but Rosings.
Rosings, always Rosings.
She shook her head and brushed away an errant tear. She had no wish to cry or to demonstrate any form of weakness before him. She was not her mother’s daughter for nothing and took refuge behind a haughty expression and her fierce personal pride. Instead of weeping, she needed an outlet for her pent-up rage, and since he had put her in this mood with his total disregard for her feelings, he had no one to blame but himself if she took him severely to task.
“I know it is asking a great deal of you,” he said passionately, “to give up everything you have been raised from the cradle to consider your own, but if I have learned nothing else in this world, at least I know that happiness is a rare and precious commodity.” Still grasping her hand, he implored her with his eyes. “You have blossomed in the time I have known you from a shy, delicate creature into a woman in your own right with growing confidence, an enquiring mind, and lively spirit. With the restoration of your health has come a translucent beauty that is as compelling as it is precious. You have stolen my heart, Anne. Even though we are poles apart in our situations in life, I feel we are also soul mates. Can you not feel it too?” He did not pause to allow her to respond. “I have never felt this way before and know I never will again. I cannot think what it is about you, but you have captured my heart.”
Anne knew precisely what it was. Rosings, she thought cynically He might dress it up with pretty words and protestations of undying love, but Anne knew better. No one who looked like Pierce would choose her above her prettier, more confident sisters, of his own volition.
Anger had filtered out his words and it took her a moment to appreciate what he had actually said.
“What do you mean, give up everything I have been raised to consider my own?” she asked suspiciously.
He blinked, looking as surprised as she felt. Anne had to admire his acting skills. He ought to be performing, instead of merely directing their production. If he did so, their success would be guaranteed. “Why Rosings, of course,” he said. “And your mother’s guidance and advice.”
“Rosings.” Anne shook her head, totally bewildered. “I’m sorry, did I hear you right? Are you saying you don’t want me for Rosings?” Her mouth fell open in a most unladylike manner. “I do not have the pleasure of understanding you. If you don’t hanker after the estate then what other reason could you possibly have–”
“Oh sweet love.” He gently cupped her chin with the fingers of one hand. “I cannot bear to see how all this expectation has sapped your self-belief.”
“You make no sense, Pierce,” she replied, not daring to believe what she thought he was trying to tell her.
“Then, at the risk of earning your derision, let me make myself clear. I would be lying if I said the proposition of Rosings was not attractive, but I am a realist, my love. Your mama requires you to marry a gentleman, not a plantation manager’s son with barely three farthings to his name. She tolerates me as your tutor following Miranda’s slur on my character, but I have lost her trust and doubt whether it will be so easy to regain it. Even if I could achieve that ambition, she would never give her permission for you to marry me.”
“No, I am perfectly sure she would not.”
“You will soon be of age, free to do as you please. I realise I am asking you to forego your mother’s love as well as your birthright, and you will be reduced to living on what a school teacher can provide for you, but I have fallen in love with you.” He grasped her shoulders and fixed her with an intent look. “You, Anne. Not Rosings, not your wealth and consequence but you–the real you. The lovely creature I have watched e
merge like a butterfly from a chrysalis these past weeks.”
“Yes!” she cried joyously. “Yes, yes, a thousand times yes.”
His arms closed around her and he expelled a long, expressive sigh. “I did not mean for you to give me an answer immediately, my dear. I am asking a very great deal of you. You will have to give up your fortune and most likely never know your mother again. Such considerations are not to be taken lightly.”
“I care nothing for my fortune. I should be very sorry if my mother put pride before my happiness.” She paused, tilted her head back and met Pierce’s gaze. “But if she forces me to choose between her and you, then I could not hesitate.”
“Your bravery leaves me speechless with admiration.”
Pierce lowered his head and kissed her deep and long, his arms holding her in a tight prison she had no wish to escape from as delicious sensations cascaded through her body. When he broke the kiss and they pulled apart they were both breathing deeply, and Anne already felt the loss of the warmth that made her feel safe and protected in a manner she had never considered possible. It was all she needed. More than enough to ensure her happiness.
“I must make one stipulation,” she said breathlessly, almost unable to speak since she seemed incapable of not smiling.
“Name it,” he said, gently tucking a stray curl behind her ear.
“I do not require false compliments.”
He looked bemused. “Whatever can you mean?”
“You spoke earlier of my beauty.” She laughed, wondering why the entire world was not laughing with her. Everyone deserved to be as deliriously happy as she was at that moment. She put disappointing her mother and the serious arguments that would ensue temporarily to the back of her mind and concentrated on enjoying the moment. “I have never been beautiful nor will I ever be. I know that very well but if you like me the way I am then that is enough for me.”
Once again Pierce shook his head. “Come and see this.” He led her to the bench and picked up his discarded sketch. “You asked me what I was drawing when you arrived.”
Anne looked at his picture and gasped. It was a very flattering, very well executed likeness of herself. “I do not look a bit like that.”
“You mistake the matter. When we are alone and you feel as though you can be yourself, when you ask me a particular question about some point in literature or other that has been perplexing you, that is exactly how you look. Your eyes widen, your lips…well, we will not talk about your lips or I will be compelled to kiss you again. And once I start that I might never stop.”
“I feel numb with happiness,” she said simply. “Never in my wildest dreams–”
“We have a lot of hurdles to clear before we can be together. First of all, your mother will be angry with you and the colonel. Then she will almost certainly dismiss me. Even if Sir Marius convinces her that I am not the rogue she takes me for, she will separate us as a punishment.”
“Yes, I know.”
“There are six months before you come of age. I wanted to speak to you today because I don’t know how much more time we have together before I am cast out. Your mother will start looking for another husband for you immediately. If you are serious in your love for me, which, by the way, you have not put into words, then we ought to make plans for our future together while we have the chance.”
She laughed, stood on her toes and placed a gentle kiss on his lips. “How could you ever doubt my feelings? I love you, Pierce. If I did not, I would not find the courage to stand up to Mama. But I will stand up to her. Never doubt it. No man she tries to push on me will find favour.” She smiled up at him. “Only you, my love. Always you.”
“I shall take myself off once I lose my position. Hard as it will be to be apart from you, I shall endeavour to find something else and I will be at Rosings on the morning of your twenty-first birthday, ready to take you away with me.”
“We could always elope.”
He looked scandalised. “We most certainly could not. I will not marry you in a tawdry ceremony over the anvil, as though I was ashamed of you. We will marry before God and a parson in a church of your choosing.”
“Whatever you say,” Anne replied, biting her lip because all the smiling surely was not ladylike.
His arm closed around her and she knew he meant it. It was all she needed to know to withstand the pressure she would receive from her mother.
Even so, six months suddenly seemed more like an eternity.
Chapter Nineteen
Lizzy heartily wished Mr. Collins back in Hunsford, a place to which he seemed in no particular hurry to transport himself. One additional guest in a property as vast as Pemberley ought not to make any difference, and nor would it if that guest was anyone other than Mr. Collins. He had a happy knack of tracking her down wherever she happened to be and insisting upon bearing her company. She tolerated him and his long-winded speeches because he was her relation and because she would not wish him upon the others.
She was aware that he had strongly advised Lady Catherine against allowing Anne to participate in the play. Lizzy had heard him repeatedly saying Anne was not strong enough and anyway such behaviour was beneath her dignity. The same did not appear to apply to Georgiana or Kitty, or perhaps he simply didn’t dare to caution Will against Georgie taking part.
When his advice was not heeded by Lady Catherine, he looked in on the rehearsals to, as he put it, ensure the spiritual and moral wellbeing of the young ladies. He told anyone who would listen that as a man of the cloth, he was the only person at Pemberley qualified to undertake that duty. He explained at tedious length that he was happy to bear that responsibility, mindless of the inconvenience. Mr. Asquith, much to Lizzy’s satisfaction, refused him entry to the rehearsal room.
Mr. Collins now had nothing to do with himself. Lizzy fell over him at every turn and could no longer call her house her own. She repeatedly reminded herself that by his remaining at Pemberley, her friend Charlotte was given a respite from his company. For that reason, she managed to remain civil and polite. But this morning, after something especially trifling that Mr. Collins had chosen to advise her against, she could tolerate him no more. Unless she found a way to distract him, she would most likely say something she would later regret. Will, Fitzwilliam and Mr. Bingley had taken refuge in the billiards room, Jane was resting, glad to be relieved of her chaperone duties, most of the young people were out walking and Lizzy was stuck with Mr. Collins. Again.
That did not seem fair.
She was unsure about Mr. Collins’s attitude to the game of billiards, although she was confident he would enlighten her, given the remotest encouragement. Such encouragement was not forthcoming. Instead, she told him the gentlemen needed him to make up the numbers. Lizzy watched him bustle away, muttering something about billiards being a perfectly acceptable pastime for gentlemen of quality, provided of course that no wagers were struck and play did not take place on the Sabbath. She suppressed a smile, anticipating the revenge Will would exact later in the privacy of their chambers.
Giddy with relief, Lizzy headed for the gardens, looking forward to a long, solitary stroll. She had not been outside for more than five minutes before she noticed Anne and Mr. Asquith approaching from the direction of the maze. Surely they had not been…Lizzy grinned, thinking from the looks of them that they very likely had. Anne appeared flushed yet radiant. Mr. Asquith seemed quietly pleased about something. They were in deep conversation, heads close together, and were almost upon Lizzy before they noticed her.
“Mrs. Darcy.” Mr. Asquith’s head jerked away from Anne’s. “Forgive me. I did not see you there.”
“We have been exploring the maze,” Anne explained, blushing crimson.
“Have you indeed. I hope you did not get lost in it.” Although Lizzy rather thought Anne would enjoy getting lost with Mr. Asquith, and he with her.
“Pray excuse me, Mrs. Darcy,” Mr. Asquith said. “I have a few matters to attend to regarding tonight’s
performance.”
“By all means.” Lizzy turned towards Anne and together they watched Mr. Asquith until he disappeared into the house. “Walk with me, Anne, unless exploring mazes has exhausted you.”
“Not in the least. I would enjoy taking a walk. Besides, I was hoping to catch you alone.”
“Without Mr. Collins dogging my footsteps, you mean.” Lizzy rolled her eyes. “I am seriously considering taking up full time residence in my private sitting room. It is about the only place in the house where he cannot intrude.”
Anne laughed. “He can be rather tenacious.”
“That is not the word I would use to describe him but I shall not offend your ears by using a more appropriate one.” She linked arms with Anne and together they crossed the lawns at a slow pace, taking a track that bordered the trees at the far end of the reflecting ponds. “Now what did you wish to speak with me about?” Lizzy laughed. “As if I couldn’t guess.”
Anne canted her head, looking embarrassed. “Am I so very transparent?”
“You are violently in love, and it shows.” Anne gasped but Lizzy waved a hand to prevent her from interrupting. “Your complexion glows, your eyes sparkle, and you cannot seem to stop smiling. I feel persuaded that Colonel Fitzwilliam has not inspired such a change in you. That does not leave many other candidates.”
“Yes, Colonel Fitzwilliam plans to tell Mama of our decision not to marry after the play, probably tomorrow morning.”
“And when does Mr. Asquith plan to speak with her?”
Anne winced. “What does it matter? Mama will never agree to the union.”
Colonel Fitzwilliam's Dilemma Page 23
