by Jennifer Joy
Before she could say something which would spoil the mood, Luc bowed over her hand and kissed it. He was too happy to care about the shock on her face. She needed to relax anyway. It would do her good.
“Merci,” he repeated as he dismissed himself and bowed out of the room.
Luc wanted to shout out in victory as he led his carriage to his home.
Only one thing remained. He needed to ensure himself of Anne’s returned affection. Normally, it was an easy thing for Luc to spot the signs of a woman in love. But his vision was cloudy where Anne was concerned, and a little doubt kept his confidence in check.
Does she love me as much as I adore her?
Anne returned home after delivering another miniature to Mr. Carriera. She felt immense satisfaction as the coins jingled in her reticule.
It was mid-afternoon and Aunt Beatrice wanted to go to Le Soleil that evening. Anne wanted to take a nap before dressing for the night. It had been a long week, and the desperation she felt with each passing hour without news from Father wore on her.
Nancy was waiting for her in her room. Anne looked at the time again. It was too early for Nancy to be home.
“Nancy, is everything all right?”
Nancy wrung her hands in her apron. “I am well, miss. What I have to say concerns you.”
“Then, speak. You need not keep anything from me.”
“Oh, I know miss. It is only that I do not know how to begin.”
Anne sat on the couch. Nancy was acting so strangely. What could she possibly have to say that was so difficult? She patted the spot next to her.
“Last week, your mother called on Mr. Mauvier at the dress shop. I know it was wicked of me and I had no business doing it, but I knew she had come to warn him away from you. So, I listened from the hallway.”
Anne’s attention was seized and she hung on every word.
“Your mother saw your sketches and drew all of the right conclusions. I swear, nothing escapes Her Ladyship’s notice.” Nancy shook her head and Anne grew afraid that she might deviate from the topic.
“What did Mother say?”
“She asked Mr. Mauvier what his intentions were toward you.”
“And?” Anne’s hands squeezed the bunched up fabric of her dress.
“He wants to marry you, miss. He told Her Ladyship that he wanted her approval.”
Anne pinched herself. Surely, this was a dream! Luc could have his pick from the beautiful, talented women who surrounded him. Her admiration for him increased greatly on hearing how frankly he had spoken to her mother. Wait. Why did he need to speak to Mother? “But, I am seven and twenty. I do not need her approval.”
“That is what your mother said. She did her best to discourage him, but he was decided. He not only wants you for his wife, he wants her blessing on the union.”
“How did it end? Were any agreements made?” Anne dared not hope too strongly.
“Well, let me just say that Mr. Mauvier’s affection for you is so ardent, he would not hear any unflattering speech about you from Her Ladyship. He actually dismissed her.” Nancy put her hand over her mouth and swallowed a chuckle.
Anne’s elation at being so admired by a man she was undeniably attracted to overshadowed her concern over her mother’s reaction. She grinned from ear to ear.
“I thought I should die an old maid, shriveled up in my bedroom at Rosings. Perhaps there is hope for me yet. But what do I do? I do not know how to act or what to say… Oh, Nancy, what if I mess everything up?” Another barrier occurred to her, and her heart almost stopped. “What if Mother never gives her blessing?”
Nancy shook her head and clucked her tongue. “You try to please everyone but yourself, miss. Now is a good time to ask yourself what you want. Your future happiness is your responsibility and yours alone.”
Anne had thought so little about what she wanted, she had to think for a while. Her days had been consumed with work and the anticipation of seeing her father, who had yet to appear. She despaired that Mother was right about him, and he would leave her waiting for him just as he had left her mother all those years ago.
What do I want?
“You have much to consider, miss. I will leave you to it.”
Anne hardly noticed when Nancy left the room.
She reached for her sketchbook. She needed to express all her suppressed emotions on paper. Giving no time for thought, she poured herself out onto the page. The graphite pencil in her hand moved steadily with a certainty that calmed Anne and excited her.
Anne heard the clock chime the hour downstairs just as she finished her rough sketch. It had only taken her fifteen minutes to do, but it held all of her dreams and desires.
She had drawn a building full of children. They could not be her own— there were too many of them. She counted a dozen little figures. Each of them had a pencil or paintbrush in his or her hand. The room was spacious and Anne stood toward the front. She was teaching them something. Everyone had a smile, including Anne.
Observing her at the side of the room were four figures. Mother stood next to a tall man with broad shoulders. They were holding hands. Next to Father stood Luc. He held a baby and looked proudly at her as she taught her students how to draw and paint.
It was a lot for one piece of paper to hold. Anne felt as light as a bird after unburdening her mind. She knew what she wanted now. She wanted a family. A close, loving, real family. She wanted peace between her parents. Who said a want need be realistic? She wanted to continue to work, but in a way that benefited others— like Millie and Adélaïde. And, she wanted Luc.
Chapter 22
Luc wanted to celebrate. He went directly to Maman’s house with the intention of requesting a private audience with Anne. There was no sense delaying. He would declare himself that very evening.
Hopping up the steps, he tapped a rhythm on the door.
The butler looked surprised to see him, but led him to the waiting room while he summoned Maman. Luc was too excited to sit. He sauntered around the room, walking from one end to the other. After what felt like forever, Maman entered the room. She looked happier than he had seen her in years. How could she know my purpose in calling?
She walked over to Luc, her hands reaching out for his. “Oh Luc. I am the happiest woman in the entire world today.” She pulled on his hands and he took a step forward. “Come with me. There is someone here who would like to see you.”
She led Luc into the parlor where a gentleman sat. He had a head full of wiry, white hair and a face full of experience. He looked much older than Luc remembered him.
The gentleman stood and as he drew closer, his size made Luc feel like a fourteen year old boy again.
No words needed to be spoken. They had known each other well.
Luc closed the distance to Sir Lewis de Bourgh who, in turn, wrapped his arms around Luc’s shoulders and held him like a father would have. Luc’s throat closed up, and the tears trickling down his cheeks dampened Sir Lewis’s shoulder.
When he finally stepped back, he could see the held-back tears in his old friend’s eyes.
“You have grown into a dashing man, Luc. How are you? How is little Adélaïde?”
“She is not so little anymore. She has become quite the businesswoman and runs a successful dress shop.” Luc wiped his face with a handkerchief, the time for tears gone.
“Bea told me that you have taken a liking to my…” he had to take a breath, but his voice still came out shaky, “daughter.” His chin shook and Luc knew he craved to know about her.
Luc looked about the room. Anne was not there.
“She should be home any minute. She had to deliver a portrait to Mr. Carriera,” Maman said.
Luc rejoiced for Anne. His proposal could wait for another day. She should enjoy every moment with her father, and he would not intrude on their moment.
Luc moved a chair over to sit by Sir Lewis.
“I love your daughter very much. She would make you so proud.”
>
The hunger in Sir Lewis’s eyes begged for more, so Luc continued.
“In appearance, Anne looks very much like Maman when she was younger. She is petite, and has the most charming pointy chin and turned up nose. Her eyes are from her mother.”
“Like a storm,” said Sir Lewis in a distant voice.
“Anne is kind to others, and completely unaware of her talents and charms. She has no idea what she is capable of, but that is what makes her the most likable, lovable woman I have ever had the honor of meeting.”
Sir Lewis let out a long sigh. “I was so afraid… When I received her letter, I did not know if she was calling me only to rebuke me, or if she really cared. I deserve her rebuke for my cowardliness, but I was so worried…”
“What? That she would turn out like her shrew of a mother?” finished Maman.
“Now, Bea, I will not allow that kind of speech against Cathy. She was my choice and I should have stood by her. I cannot begin to imagine the suffering I put that woman through. She is the one who deserved better.”
“Do not be so hard on yourself, my friend. I have met Lady Catherine and she has such a character… well, she would be very difficult to live with, I think.” Luc wanted to ease some of Sir Lewis’s grief.
“It is true. Yet, her strong personality is part of why I married her. I appreciate your understanding, but I have lived nearly thirty years regretting my rash decision. Alas, I did such a good job pretending my death that I could not come back, though I dearly wanted to.”
“You are much changed, Lewis. You could stay now, should you choose to…”
“We shall see. Now, when do you expect Anne home?”
Maman patted her brother’s hand. “Patience. She could walk through the door at any moment.”
And, just then, Anne did.
A tall man with white hair sat next to Aunt Beatrice. He stood when Anne entered the room, clasping his hands in front of him, and then clasping them behind his back. His broad shoulders were only slightly bent with age. He shuffled his feet like a man under trial, nervously awaiting judgment.
Anne’s heart beat faster. She had seen those eyes, bushy eyebrows, and long sideburns before— in a painting above the mantle in the sitting room at Rosings. With a little trepidation, she asked, “Are you my father?”
Sir Lewis nodded, unable to speak. He reached his hands out so that she might take them.
That was not enough for Anne, for she stepped forward and buried her face in Sir Lewis’s chest, weeping. He wrapped his arms around her and rested his chin on the top of her head, rocking her until her sobbing calmed.
The tears finally subsided, and Maman handed Anne her handkerchief. “Here, child, clean your face. Crying is never a pretty business. Lewis, let me present you to your daughter, Anne. Anne, this is your father.”
Now that the tears had subsided, Anne felt awkward. She had imagined this moment for so long and, now that it was here, she had no words. She did not know what to do.
Aunt Beatrice suggested everyone take a seat.
She sat on a couch next to Father. Aunt Beatrice sat in a chair next to him, and Luc stood. Bowing, he said, “This is a precious moment for your family. Perhaps I should call at a better time.”
“No. Please do not leave,” Anne blurted out. “You are as much a part of this family as I am, and I wish you would stay.” He always referred to Aunt Beatrice as Maman. Her father had saved him and Adélaïde from the bloodthirsty revolutionaries. He was her friend. There were numerous reasons for him to stay.
“As you wish,” he bowed and then sat in a chair beside her.
Feeling more comfortable with him close, Anne placed her hands on her lap and looked at her father. “I have some questions for you.”
“I will answer anything you ask.”
A commotion at the front door stopped Anne. Everyone looked to the door.
Mother barged in behind the weary butler— so closely he dared not stop until he could step off to the side in the room. He managed to say, “Lady Catherine de Bourgh.”
She stopped abruptly, like she was looking at a ghost.
Father stood, his face blanched white.
Mother soon recovered, anger carrying her across the room. It was the same look she had given Anne after she had refused Darcy. She did not stop until she stood directly in front of Father.
With a flash of her hand and a resounding smack, she struck him.
Luc immediately reached over Anne and grabbed for Maman, who looked like she would leap on Mother. He whispered, “This is not our fight.”
“How dare you show your face here.” Lady Catherine saw no one but Father in front of her.
He did not repine. Instead he stood firmly in place and in the tenderest of gestures, took Mother’s face in both of his hands. “I am so sorry, Cathy. I was the worst kind of fool to abandon you like I did. I can never forgive myself for what I have done, but pray that, in time, you might be able to forgive me.”
Anne watched her mother’s harsh exterior thaw. Her stance relaxed and her face seemed softer.
They stood so until Mother remembered where they were. She looked around to see if anyone had noticed.
Understanding her worry, Father said, “Let them look, Cathy. What do you have to be afraid of?”
“You have no idea, Lewis.” She straightened up and looked for a seat. Choosing to distance herself from Aunt Beatrice, she sat next to Luc.
Anne could see the wheels in her aunt’s brain turning and cringed when she heard her question. “What are you doing calling at my house?”
Mother tried to look superior as she answered, “I came to visit Anne.”
“It is late into the calling hour. No, I think not. You are too rigidly proper for that.”
“If that is what you think, who am I to change your mind?” Mother looked haughtily over the group.
Maman gasped. “You were spying on my house! Do not deny it! Why should you deny it when you have made no effort to call on Anne at my home since you arrived in town?”
Mother shrugged, but avoided eye contact.
“You devious bat—”
“That is enough, Bea.”
“We cannot trust her to be honest, she is such a—” She thrust an accusatory finger at Mother.
“I said that is enough. If you cannot manage to be nice, then I thank you to remain quiet— and that goes for everyone.” Father looked pointedly at Mother. Anne was proud of the authority with which he spoke.
“Now, I have given this much thought. The last thing I want to do is create a scandal. I know how much you abhor that kind of attention,” he said, still looking at Mother. “Nobody knows much about past generations of de Bourghs. I could very well be a cousin from the continent on our father’s side. That would explain the last name. As to my given name, I thank you to call me by my second name, Francis.”
Turning his attention back to Anne, he asked, “You have some questions for me?”
Without hesitation, she asked, “Why did you leave?” Anne thought she was done with the tears, and had to steady her breathing to prevent them from interrupting her interview.
Father looked pained, but he never looked away. “I was a fool and a coward. That is the only excuse I can give. Instead of being the strong man your mother needed, I took the easy path and let her have her way in everything. Cathy made all the decisions and I sat by with my arms crossed, getting sickly as my emotional weakness spread over my body until I thought I would rather die. I resented her and blamed her for turning me into a weak-willed good-for-nothing when I was the one to blame.” He stabbed his finger into his chest.
“I cannot apologize enough for what I did. We had been waiting years for an heir to be born and… nothing. At the time, I felt I was doing everyone a favor by disappearing. Looking back, it shocks me how easy it was to arrange.”
“How did you do it?” asked Anne.
“I had gone to some healing waters on the coast. A colleague from my Cambr
idge days was there. He had become a doctor, being the third son of his family. Over cups one evening, we were solving the world’s problems one at a time when we finally got around to my miserable life. We concocted this plan together and it seemed like such an easy, simple solution. He took care of the legal arrangements and I boarded a boat to Calais.”
“Why France, Lewis? Why could you not have chosen somewhere safer?” Aunt Beatrice asked.
“It was the only place that occurred to me at the time.” He shook his head, a grimace on his face. “When I had spent some time alone, I thought over what I had done. I was ashamed, but I was also trapped. By then, news of my death would have spread, and I could not very well have done like Lazarus and come back from the dead. So, I stayed. I had to.”
“What have you been doing all these years?” Mother asked. Anne was relieved Mother deemed to speak to Father after all he had done. Reconciliation was too much for Anne to hope for, but she wished for some measure of peace between her parents.
“Not attaching any value to my life, for really, I felt that I did not deserve to continue living, I helped some who were in danger to escape. There was an ace of a fellow who made the arrangements. All I had to do was get the families to him, and he took care of the rest. I cannot speak much about him and our adventures, lest his identity be made known. Perhaps when all this unnecessary bloodshed is over…”
Anne looked at Luc. Her father had saved his life, but could do nothing to prevent his parents’ early death. How unfair life was for some. Anne realized how fortunate she had been. Mother was overbearing and overprotective, but at least she had a mother. Some children, like Luc and Adélaïde, had their mothers taken from them. Even now, her father sat next to her, and she felt that things would be better here on out. She was not certain how, but she felt it.
“I am so sorry I could not get your parents out in time, Luc. I would gladly have taken their place. Why is it that those who treasure life are the first ones to lose it, while those of us with little regard live much too long?” Father’s face twisted up and he rubbed his hand over his eyes.
