Chapter Four

Meanwhile, Miss Isobel Darcy was on her way to Bath, with all the appearance of a nonchalant, seasoned traveller. In fact, although she had been to London and to Hertfordshire before, that had only ever been in the company of her parents or her brother, and as she told her maid, it gave her a wonderful sense of adulthood to finally travel on her own. "And for heavens' sake, it is about time!" she exclaimed, quite shocking poor Lucy. "Why, I am two and twenty, and I am sure I am just about on the shelf! That gives me sufficient justification to be travelling alone, does it not?"

"Well, miss, I suppose so," said Lucy in a small voice.

"Precisely!" said Isobel. She leaned forward again, and looked out the window, wide awake and with the firm gaze she was known for. "All the same, there comes a point where travelling simply becomes a bore. Have you any idea of how long it will be until the next inn? I am wasting away."

"I'm sorry, miss, I heard Sam Coachman say that this leg of the journey would be several hours without stop."

Isobel flopped back on her seat. "Well, there is nothing to be done. I will have to get out the basket Mama packed for me. It was very amiable of her to do it, I am sure, but it is so much more independent to buy meals on one's own. However, there is nothing for it."

She leant across and opened the basket, pulling out one apple, and handing another to her maid. Lucy soon fell asleep again, but Isobel ate her apple and watched the countryside go past. Tomorrow, she would be in Bath, she thought, very satisfied with her lot.

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It was late afternoon when Isobel stepped calmly out of the coach and into her friend Mrs Sally Eathorne's arms. "Dear Sally!" she said affectionately. "I'm so happy to be here!"

"Well, so am I!" said Sally. She was a little blonde thing with shrewd blue eyes, dressed in the height of fashion. "Do you like my dress? My husband paid the bill for it today, and he is still in a sulk, are you not, my dear?"

The tall man who stepped forward to shake Isobel's hand did not seem to her to be in any way sulking. He was a little older than his wife than was normal, but on Isobel's careful consideration he seemed to be exactly right for her. "Good afternoon, Miss Darcy," he said with a cheerful grin, and looked fondly at his wife. "But doesn't the sight of her make up for it?"

She smiled, pleased with him. "It certainly does, Mr Eathorne. I am very pleased to meet you."

"And I you. I assure you, we are most happy to have you stay, I especially, as now there will be someone to distract my silly wife and keep her happy while I am occupied with business."

"Now, you must come in, Isobel," bustled Sally, ignoring her husband's not-so-flattering description of her. Isobel supposed there must be much raillery between them. "I haven't been the mistress of a house for long, but I know that in these circumstances I should comment on your inevitable weariness, and conduct you to your room, and offer you a hot brick for your feet, and I know not what else."

Isobel laughed. "Sally, you have not changed one bit." She followed her host and hostess up the steps, jubilant about the coming weeks.

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"How are my cousins Ernest and Isobel?" enquired Anna of Elinor, trying not to stare around her as they ascended the magnificent staircase.

"Isobel left this morning, actually," smiled Elinor. "She is going to Bath to stay with a friend. Ernest is in town, but he writes to us a lot, and I think he will come home for the summer soon."

Anna looked closely at her cousin for a moment. "Are you smiling because of that silly infatuation I had with your brother when I was small?" She could not stop her lips curving into a grin.

Elinor laughed. "I confess it had not escaped my memory!"

"Well, you needn't worry about any designs I may still harbour on him! I am rather embarrassed that anyone should remember such a foolish thing! How amusing. I hope cousin Ernest does not remember?"

"Oh, I'm sure he has forgotten," said Elinor. "A large number of small girls have fallen in love with him over the years!"

"What a lowering thought," laughed Anna. It was so pleasing to find her cousin just as welcoming and friendly as she had hoped.

They came to a long hallway, and Elinor came to a halt outside a large door. "This is to be your room, cousin Anna. I am your neighbour, just along there." She opened the door, and both girls entered.

Anna could hardly believe she had been given so lavish a room. It was almost as big as their whole lower floor in Bristol, and had a large four poster bed in the centre. The walls were a pale green hue, and the ceiling an ornate masterpiece, and on the floor was a rich carpet. There were wax candles liberally placed throughout the whole room; Anna did some rapid arithmetic and calculated that she had been provided with fifteen wax candles to brighten her evenings. The extravagance of this astounded her, and although she had not precisely expected to be led to a humble boxroom, provided with a mere camp bed and perhaps one stool, she could not in her wildest dreams have imagined half as much elegance. It was not simply elegant, either; she saw three vases of flowers placed strategically around the room, and was touched by the kindness that must have motivated them.

"Oh, cousin Elinor—what a beautiful room, and the flowers—what lovely—I almost cannot believe—"

Elinor smiled, but it was anxiously that she hoped the room was to her cousin's liking.

"How could you doubt it?" asked Anna, astonished. "It is so lovely!"

"Yes, but sometimes the fireplace smokes, and yours and my bedrooms are not the most conveniently placed, but Mama thought you should like it better to be nearby me, but if you should prefer a different room, that could so easily be arranged—"

Anna squeezed her cousin's hand, and said warmly, "Elinor, do not make me change rooms, for I am already excessively attached to this one! To think that I should be going to sleep tonight in that utterly disproportionate bed! Why, I could be swallowed up whole. No, it does not suit my notions of personal grandeur to shift rooms at all."

Elinor burst into laughter. "Well, I must tell you that in the Red Suite, there is a bed almost double that size, in which Queen Elizabeth is said to have slept, and in which my great-great-grandfather died—perhaps you would prefer that one?"

Anna's eyes opened a little wider, but she had to laugh. "Thank you, Elinor, but I think this chamber will suit me perfectly."

Elinor opened the door. "I am glad to hear of it. Now, I will send a maid to help you unpack, and meanwhile I shall be next door, if you need me. Dinner is at six o'clock; I hope that is not too early for you?"

"No, not at all."

"Very well, then."

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Anna and Oliver were both pleased that dinner was not served in the official dining room but an adjoining room that was of a smaller and more comfortable size. It was still a large table, and there were two footmen present, but having been shown the larger room, they could not help but draw a sigh of relief at the sight of the relatively snug family dining room.

It was a merry evening; Oliver ate as if he had starved all his life before coming to Pemberley, and Anna felt as if a smile was permanently affixed on her face as she sat at dinner with a family who laughed and joked and was friendly to each other without being in the least part crude or sulky. Aunt Elizabeth was a kind mother, and an especially kind aunt on this, their first evening at Pemberley. Mr Darcy unbent still more at table with his family around him.

Anna sat next to Christopher and opposite Elinor. It was a comfortable arrangement as Christopher exerted himself to the utmost in order to amuse her while Elinor whispered instructions whenever Anna looked down, confused by the number of forks or an unfamiliar dish. The women withdrew to the sitting room and were followed soon after by the men. Elinor was called on to play the pianoforte and Anna found herself being asked to sing. Although Anna had always sung rather well, she was discomfited by the request. Surely a family that had grown up with all the best opportunities in instruction must be superior to any of her efforts in music. And she had already heard how excellently Elinor played; her cousin's little fingers soared across the keyboard as if playing came as naturally to her as smiling. But when she was finally persuaded by Aunt Elizabeth's sensible suggestion of singing a duet with Elinor instead of a solo, she found herself relaxing and singing as well as she possibly could, encouraged by the superiority of Elinor's playing. Besides, even she could recognise how well matched her voice was with Elinor's.

Oliver, of course, was barely listening to his sister and cousin singing. He and John were engaged in an intense game of chess.

Christopher, on the other hand, wandered up to the pianoforte as they finished. "Cousin Anna, that was delightful," he said, and paused.

Anna was startled by the sincerity in his voice. "Why, thank you, cousin Christopher. I – I was well assisted by your sister's talent, of course."

Elinor disclaimed. "No, Anna, you have a beautiful voice, it's true. Did you ever have lessons?"

Anna looked away slightly. "No… we could not afford lessons. At least, Mama did not think them necessary."

"I am glad you did not have them," said Christopher promptly, though untruthfully, motivated by a chivalrous feeling unknown to him previously.

Elinor laughed. "Why on earth?"

Christopher turned to face his sister with a smile. "Why? How can you ask me that, Elinor? Do not you remember our Miss Plum?"

"Yes, and that does not elucidate the matter any further, Christopher. Miss Plum was wonderful."

"That's right—and unique. In my experience outside our home, singing teachers only spoil their students. They teach them to expand either beyond their possibilities, and the result is dreadful, or they teach them to worry so much about each single note that their students are afraid to attempt perfection and never sing again."

Elinor gave Anna an expressive smile. "My brother is in an odd mood tonight, cousin Anna. I must apologise for him."

"No!" said Christopher, smiling only out of duty and addressing himself again to his cousin with an urgent tone in his voice. "I mean it as a compliment, cousin Anna. Your voice is so delightful as it is that I fear most teachers could only attempt to improve on it and in so doing would make you so worried about subtle nuances that you held yourself back and sang to only half your ability."

Anna blushed. "Thank you, cousin Christopher. I think you flatter me, but I will accept your compliment."

Christopher smiled more warmly. "There. We understand each other, Elinor."

But Elinor was not looking at him, smiling into her music as if too amused to betray the source of her thoughts. And as she said goodnight later to Anna, in the hallway outside their bedrooms, she felt like saying, "I have never seen my brother so gallant." She generously refrained.