A Summer in Scarborough

by Blake Smith

  “Nor should you,” Mrs. Darcy pronounced. “Never alter your feelings to suit another person; that will only lead to unhappiness. If you are frightened of Sir Henry, and have reason to be, then you are frightened of him. Only if he were to grow more agreeable on further acquaintance, or you to gain additional information about his character, should your feelings alter. But I see by your expression that this has not been the case.”

  “No- in fact, he grows worse on further acquaintance,” Anne admitted. “I have spent the past two months attempting to avoid him, but I could not avoid him this afternoon.” She began to cry again.

  She was petted and soothed, and found it much less irksome than Mrs. Jenkinson’s often misguided attentions. Never in her life had she known such misery, and it was a long time before her sobs subsided. She had refused an offer of marriage, made her mother angry, and run away from home. For a girl who had never so much as gone walking on her own, the situation was quite upsetting.

  But a feeling of pure relief stole through her when Mrs. Darcy said, “You shall stay with us tonight, and we shall decide what to do about Sir Henry in the morning. No doubt Mr. Darcy will have some good advice, and perhaps your other friends will stand with you. I have found that Lady Catherine is much less intimidating when one has friends at one’s side.”

  This was an excellent plan, but it fell apart almost immediately. A bare half hour after Anne’s arrival, the door burst open, revealing an irate Lady Catherine.

  Georgiana and Mrs. Darcy were able to say calmly, “How do you do, Your Ladyship?” but Anne was silent. And politeness had no effect on Lady Catherine; her gaze fell upon Anne and she positively snarled, her eyes flashing with anger. She looked taller than usual in her puffed up fury, and when Anne rose from her seat, she discovered that her changed position had no effect- her mother still looked larger than normal.

  I have heard the expression, ‘swelling with anger’ before, but until this moment I thought it an exaggeration, she thought with a sort of detached curiosity.

  But her mother’s anger was real, and she wasted no time in venting her injured feelings upon Anne. “How could you do such a thing?” she demanded.

  Anne, not knowing which of her actions caused Lady Catherine’s offense, made no answer.

  “I had no notion where you had gone, your maid would say nothing, and here I had to traipse all over town looking for you!”

  “You seem to have discovered me rather quickly, all the same,” Anne said calmly.

  “Because I know my own daughter, and I suspected you would come to your nearest relations in town, to throw yourself on the mercy of Darcy! Where is he?”

  “I have not seen him.”

  Mrs. Darcy made a slight movement. “He is calling upon some friends and shall return shortly.” You would not wish for him to come upon a painful scene, would you? was left unspoken.

  Lady Catherine made no answer; her mouth twisted as though she’d swallowed a lemon. “Anne, you must and shall return to Number Twelve.”

  Six months ago, Anne would have obeyed without thinking of what she did, so ingrained where the habits of compliance. “I will not, unless you promise that you will cease this idea that I should marry Sir Henry.”

  “Sir Henry is a respectable man who has been known to me for many years,” Lady Catherine said firmly. “I cannot see what you dislike about him.”

  “Your Ladyship, I have already explained my feelings to you on many occasions-” Anne began to say, but was interrupted by the door opening yet again.

  This time, the visitor was much more surprising to everyone present, but much more to Anne’s liking. For it was Mr. Jeffries, and his feelings appeared to alter between relief at finding Anne and anger at Lady Catherine.

  “Mr. Jeffries,” Anne greeted him, all surprise at his arrival. “I am very glad to see you, but how did you find me?”

  “I called at Number Twelve a moment ago; your abigail told me you’d come here.”

  “You asked the servants?” Lady Catherine said scornfully.

  “The house was in an uproar; I was happy to get accurate information by any means,” he said coolly. “Unlike some, who do not inquire after the most basic information before making absurd judgments.” His meaning could not have been more clear.

  There was a sharp crack! and Mr. Jeffries flinched. Lady Catherine had struck him, and when she raised her hand to do it again, he seized the offending hand and forced it down to her side. “That is quite enough, madam!” he snarled. “If you treat your daughter in this manner, I am hardly surprised she ran away from you!”

  Anne was shocked by this sudden violence, but now she burst out, “Oh, don’t! Don’t fight; I cannot bear it! Mamma, you must see that this is absurd.”

  “I see nothing absurd about your conduct,” Lady Catherine snapped. “I see an undutiful, ungrateful, selfish girl who does not know her own interest. You have driven away my friends; you have run away from your duty in the most shocking manner; and now you- craven child that you are- seek to hide from the consequences of your wrongdoing! I will not have it! If you persist in acting in this way, you are no daughter of mine!”

  Anne’s heart shattered at this pronouncement, but she lifted her chin. “Very well, ma’am,” she said, and was surprised to hear how very calm her voice sounded, “I believe Harris has finished packing by now- I told her to leave behind everything that I had not purchased with my own money. I shall trouble you no longer.”

  “And where shall you go?” Lady Catherine demanded. “I will see to it that you receive no welcome in any respectable house!”

  “That is your prerogative,” Anne said, still eerily calm. “But I am five-and-twenty, and the mistress of my own fortune. I shall make shift to establish myself somehow, and in any case, you have said that I am no longer your daughter, so it is of no concern of yours what I do with myself.”

  As she spoke, the color drained from Lady Catherine’s face. She looked positively stricken, as if she could not believe that Anne would truly leave her protection. She swayed and felt behind her for a chair, then sank into it with unusual clumsiness.

  The old Anne de Bourgh would have rushed to her mother’s side, offering profuse apologies and begging for forgiveness. But Anne stood firm. She could not be unaffected by Lady Catherine’s obvious unhappiness, but nor could she bring herself to lessen that affliction.

  The scene grew briefly blurred, then she blinked and tears ran down her cheeks. Mr. Jeffries, who along with everyone else, had been standing by in silent support of Anne, came toward her.

  “Come along, Anne,” he said, holding out his hand. “You should not be exposed to this.”

  “Oh, yes,” Georgiana chimed in. “Anne, come away. I am sure Mrs. Darcy and Mr. Jeffries will say to Lady Catherine everything that is proper, and you look overset.”

  Happy to leave behind the ugly scene, and trusting in Mr. Jeffries, Anne took Georgiana’s arm. As they left the room, she saw Lady Catherine rise and attempt to follow her, and Mr. Jeffries put out a hand to stop her.

  “No, Your Ladyship,” he said quietly. “If you follow Miss de Bourgh, you will surely say something you will regret later. Return to Brooke Street, and perhaps a reconciliation might be attempted at some other time.”

  Anne, with all the acute feelings of an injured woman, did not think this plausible, but she saw the justice of Mr. Jeffries’ advice and applied it to herself. No doubt she, too, would say something untoward if required to converse further with Lady Catherine.

  But she had hardly stepped over the threshold into what turned out to be Georgiana’s bedroom, when the outer door opened and Mr. Darcy stepped into the drawing room. Everyone paused, and it was this absurd scene that must have prompted him to say dryly, “This is a fine tableau. And rather a change from the shouting I heard while I was on the stairs. What is happening here?”

  “I have come to retrieve my daughter-” Lady Catherine began to say, taking a step toward her nephew as though t
o keep his attention on her. But Mr. Darcy raised a hand toward her, asking for silence.

  “Mrs. Darcy,” he said with emphasis, “what is happening here?”

  Lady Catherine looked about to explode with fury at being thus passed over. But Mrs. Darcy said, without a flicker of the triumph she must be feeling, “Your cousin Miss de Bourgh has asked to stay this night with us. She has argued with Lady Catherine, and I think it best that they should be separated until everyone’s feelings are cooler. And,” she gestured to Mr. Jeffries, “may I make Mr. Jeffries known to you?”

  “How do you do, sir?” Mr. Darcy said coolly. The gentlemen exchanged bows. “What is your interest in this matter?”

  “I am friend to Miss de Bourgh,” Mr. Jeffries said, without a trace of the lightness that was his usual demeanor. “I was away for a time, and unable to protect her from the attentions of a man she disliked. Now that I have returned, I wish to take up the mantle of protector. But I defer to you, sir, and to Miss de Bourgh on the matter. She must know her own mind better than anyone else.”

  Mr. Darcy nodded briefly then turned his attention to her. “Anne?”

  She came a few steps back into the room. “Mrs. Darcy and Mr. Jeffries are correct. Ever since I have arrived in Scarborough, I have been plagued by Sir Henry Thornton, who claims to be a friend of my father. I believe I pointed him out to your notice last night. A short time ago, Sir Henry proposed marriage to me. I declined. This response was not at all to my mother’s liking, and she grew so angry with me that I sought shelter here. Lady Catherine arrived shortly thereafter and continued her attempts to persuade me that I should accept Sir Henry. Mr. Jeffries arrived shortly after that, and when you arrived, was attempting to persuade both of us that we should continue our discussion at another time.”

  She had attempted to make her tale as short and direct as possible, but her agitation was such that she found the task difficult, and Mr. Darcy was frowning by the time she finished. But his next question was to Lady Catherine. “Your Ladyship, is there any sort of contract or legal requirement that Anne should marry this Sir Henry?”

  “Are the wishes and expectations of her family not enough?” Lady Catherine demanded.

  “No,” was Mr. Darcy’s blunt answer. “Not if she is unwilling.”

  “I am her mother!” Lady Catherine exclaimed. “I, of all people in the world, have the right to advise her on such a matter!”

  “You have given your advice,” Anne snapped, before anyone else could reply. “It is no concern of yours if I choose not to follow it.”

  “But-”

  “No, Your Ladyship.” Anne had never talked over her mother in her life, but, surrounded by friends, she felt she could do anything. “Not everyone is required to think as you do.”

  She thought she heard a dry, whispered, “Bravo,” from Mrs. Darcy, but no one else seemed aware of it. Lady Catherine was again working herself into a fury, and the attention of everyone in the room was on her trembling, enraged figure.

  The explosion was not long in coming. “This is intolerable! To be overruled by my own family, and in the matter of my daughter’s comfort and happiness, too! A mother’s feelings, a mother’s advice and experience in the world- all counting for nothing! And for what? Because my daughter is foolish and does not know her own mind! And all of you are so very happy to lead her into folly! I wash my hands of the matter!”

  Had Mr. Darcy actually rolled his eyes? No, he would never do so; it must be a trick of the light. But his voice was utterly calm and cool when he said, “Madam, you are exposing yourself before your closest relations, strangers unconnected with the family, even servants. For there is no one in the White Rose that has escaped hearing of your anger. Possibly no one in Scarborough remains ignorant of the matter. Return to Brooke Street. We will discuss the matter at a later time.”

  Of course, Lady Catherine protested. But Mr. Darcy made a sign to Mr. Jeffries, who came to Anne’s side. “Shall we?” he said quietly, gesturing to the door through which she had previously attempted to exit.

  “Yes, thank you,” Anne said gratefully. She took his arm, ignoring her mother’s demand to know what she thought she was doing and where she was going.

  The last thing Anne heard before Georgiana closed the door, was Lady Catherine sputtering with impotent rage, and Mr. Darcy icily explaining that she was a guest in these rooms, and would she like him to call the footmen, that they might carry her down the stairs like an unwanted parcel?

  Anne smiled.

  CHAPTER Twenty

  Anne sighed happily as the breeze ruffled her gown and lifted a stray curl that had escaped her bonnet. One could see forever from the top of Scarborough Hill. Of course, she was not the only person who had chosen such a fine day to ascend the hill and examine the ruins, but for the moment, she was quite alone, and the sight of people walking about in the distance caused her no distress.

  It was difficult to be distressed about anything at the moment. After the confrontation with Lady Catherine, she had taken a full day to rest and recover her spirits, and now allowed herself the indulgence of fresh air and exercise. And now she had reached the summit of Scarborough Hill, only a day later than she’d originally planned to do so. Her strength had proven equal to the exertion, with a little assistance from Mr. Jeffries’ strong arm as they clambered up the steepest part of the hill.

  It was a small but pleasant party of explorers. Mrs. Darcy could not be denied- nor did Anne wish to do so- and there was also Georgiana, Mr. Jeffries, Miss Bingley, and Mr. Caverleigh. Mr. Darcy had promised to join them later, but had some business to attend to that morning. As he had also promised to bring some refreshment, as well as the carriage for anyone who did not wish to walk back to town, his presence was doubly looked-for.

  But for now, Anne was happy to walk about the place, imagining its previous inhabitants and marveling at the lichen-covered stones. Further away, a little fleet of fishing boats bobbed on the water, and the scents of sea salt and grass mingled in the air.

  “Is it not lovely?” Mr. Jeffries’ soft voice came from beside her.

  “Oh, yes,” she said with perfect truth. “It’s beautiful. Can you imagine some long ago soldier, standing atop this very wall, looking out to sea, and spotting a Viking ship? Although,” she corrected herself, “it’s not very likely that this wall had been built in the time of the Vikings.”

  Mr. Jeffries laughed gently. “No, most likely they had wooden watchtowers that served the same purpose. But I understand your sentiment; one could see forever from this spot.”

  “And even as a ruin I find it lovely,” she said, drawing her attention back from the far horizon to the blasted keep and its walls. “There is something about the stones, so strong and enduring despite everything, and the grass that grows everywhere it possibly can, that makes me contemplative. I cannot explain it, yet it makes me feel as though the past and present have collided in this spot.”

  “The strong, old walls and the new, delicate grass,” Mr. Jeffries said, nodding. “Do you find it invigorating? Or should you like to sit down for a time?”

  “Both,” Anne admitted, laughing. “I wish to look around me, and see everything that can be seen, but I do not wish to tire myself.”

  “Then let us sit for a time, and then walk again. I believe you have not seen the inside of the keep; I once found a coin there that must be very ancient indeed.”

  They found a seat and rested for a moment in companionable silence. Anne looked here and there, fixing in her memory all that could be seen. But she was aware of Mr. Jeffries beside her. She could not explain why, but she thought he might be wishing to speak yet unable to do so. He was watching her, a slight, gentle smile upon his face. When he saw her questioning glance, he said, “You look very much at peace. When I saw you this morning, there was a line between your brows; now it is gone. And your lips are not pressed together as firmly as they were. Have you recovered from your ordeal?”

  Anne had smiled
at his description of her- so direct yet gentle and inoffensive. “I am somewhat recovered,” she said after a short pause. “I understand why Sir Henry wanted to marry me- he desired a wife he could order around. And I understand why my mother wanted me to marry him- their characters are alike, forceful and decisive, and since she cannot see anything wrong with her own way of acting, she did not see anything objectionable in Sir Henry’s behavior. So, I know why this has happened. But I am not perfectly at peace. All my life, I have been guided by my mother. Now that that period of life is over, I’m not sure what to do.” She offered a small, tense smile. “I shall become accustomed in time, no doubt.”

  “Have you decided where you will go next?”

  “Mr. and Mrs. Darcy have offered me a home until I can find a place of my own, so I think I will go next to Pemberley. But then I must decide what would suit me. I have thought of finding a house in town, but I am not sure if my attraction to the city is simply because I have lived so long in the country, and wish for change. So, I know where I shall go next, but not after that.”

  There was a long pause. Mr. Jeffries was looking at the ground, and Anne nearly missed his first words. “I have a house in town, in Green Street,” he said quietly. “It is not, perhaps, as large as you could wish, but it is a pretty place in a respectable neighborhood. The drawing room opens onto a balcony, which looks over the square. The garden of the neighborhood is large and well-tended; you would find ample paths for walking within it. I have explored it many times, and would be happy to show it to you.”

  Anne listened to this speech with confusion. At first, she thought he was offering to rent or sell his house to her. Then his true meaning became clear, though her confusion was not lessened; it merely took a different form.

  “Unfortunately, it is only for let on rather hard terms,” he continued, now looking at her sidelong. “If you wish to take the house, you must take me along with it.”

  “Would that be so very bad?” she managed to say in a trembling voice. “To take you along with your house?”