A/N: Kind of mixed reviews on the Catch-22 style of very rapid POV changes. Some really liked it and some hated it. A few of you of you asked for a separator between the switches. That would have been easy enough to do and I considered it, but I deliberately wanted to leave you feeling a little bit unsettled, so I refrained. You can decide whether that's a feature or a bug, but it was unpopular enough that I probably won't repeat that style, at least in this story, but it was interesting and diverting.
If it wasn't obvious, that last chapter was all happening on the same day. In a bit of a technical SNAFU (another WWII term since I am in a Catch-22 mindset), I lost most of what I'd written for Chapter 7, but no worries. It wasn't all that good anyway. So here is the newly revised next chapter.
I realize I'm not matching my typical relentless posting pace, but on the other hand, this is another 8k word monster, or about 3 of my usual chapters. I think I'm about 6 chapters from the end. We're back to omniscient POV for this one.
Wade
"Elizabeth Bennet, what in the world happened to your head!"
The young lady in question wished she could have kept the more heavily bruised side of her face away from her companion for at least a few minutes, but it was obviously a fool's errand when she had no reasonable way to determine if there even was a good side. She was only happy that according to her excellent surgeon, the stitches should be mostly invisible. The man was quite correct. In fact, for a footman he could be considered a genius. The stitches fooled Anne de Bourgh for almost the 10 seconds it took her to walk two paces closer to her companion. When Anne got a good look at the cut that went along with the bruises, she threw a right fit that could almost have passed for one of her mother's.
"Elizabeth Rose Bennet! Answer me this instant! You will explain to me exactly when this happened, and precisely why you did not send someone to fetch me at once, and then you may elect to continue with specifically why you allowed me to go to sleep being unaware of what happened under my own roof. Were you not attended last night?"
Elizabeth knew this showdown had been coming, but that did not make it any more pleasant. However, she knew she had to stand her ground in this. Even if she had been acting especially ridiculous the previous evening, she felt it was essential to her overall happiness and self‑respect that she defend her right to her own stupidity.
"Anne! Please! You may not blame the servants for any of this. It was all my own doing. I went to some great effort to be alone and enjoy the silence of my own thoughts for the first time since I left the crow's nest. It was my right to do so, and you may not blame anybody but me for my own doings. It may have turned out badly, but it was my choice."
Still halfway between hopping mad and in a blind panic, Anne asked, "And what lofty thoughts were you thinking that resulted in such damage to your person?"
Not one to be intimidated, her companion replied with a bit of heat in her own voice.
"They were not quite so lofty, and in fact they were somewhat silly, but they were my thoughts and I am entitled to them."
"And how did these grandiose thoughts manifest themselves?"
"I had difficulty getting them out of my head, so I tried beating them out using the pianoforte."
Naturally the end of that particular tirade left the two ladies breathing hard and staring at each other; well one staring and the other pointing in more or less the correct direction with a frown and a resolute expression on her face.
With that, Anne could no longer keep up her unpleasant demeanor and let out a good‑natured laugh, which immediately broke the tension. Anne never had managed to keep any kind of temper with her companion, and if Elizabeth could joke about the injuries, they could not be too terrible. Anne knew that Elizabeth was blind, stubborn and independent, not necessarily in that order, so this was not her first serious injury. In fact, Anne was amazed it was the first one on her watch.
"I concede defeat Elizabeth. Not only am I not going to worry about your head, I am going to specifically instruct the rest of the household to ignore it. In fact, I quite believe that you got what you deserve, and my feelings are now as light as a feather, as I am happy you got your comeuppance. I intend to spend the next week at least thoroughly enjoying your misery, and poking fun at your bullheadedness at every single opportunity!"
Elizabeth joined her in laughter, quite satisfied that an entirely pointless row was not to intrude on their relationship. In truth, it was not the first time she had been injured in Anne's company. It was just the worst example.
"Anne, while the manner of my lessons was not entirely to my liking, I did learn something."
"Pray enlighten me, Elizabeth!"
"That is the worst tuned pianoforte in the entire state, and possibly the entire country."
With a good-natured giggle, Anne answered, "That is because you are playing it wrong Elizabeth. You are supposed to play it with your fingers! Not your head!"
"I did!"
That brought Anne up quite short, as the import of the words sank in.
"You played."
"Yes! I played… very ill indeed, but I played."
Anne thought Elizabeth's mannerisms were those of a naughty schoolgirl looking at her shoes, or someone just plain embarrassed by a revelation; although Anne could not for the life of her figure out why Elizabeth needed to be embarrassed."
"And?"
"It was awful! It was wonderful! It was nothing. It was everything. It was easy. It was hard. It was a start."
Anne forgot the wound in her friend's head immediately, ran over and hugged her and said, "So, you have decided to reclaim one of your senses."
"I have"
Anne squeezed Elizabeth's hand in a bit of a signal they had unconsciously adopted over the year to show happiness, since Elizabeth could not see a smile on her face, but then decided it was too subtle and grabbed her friend in an impromptu bearhug… yet another mannerism her mother would either loathe or celebrate depending on her mood.
"I presume we need to get it tuned?"
"Please! I sound worse than my six‑year‑old niece after a half‑hour of instruction, but at least I played. I need an excuse free household if I am to reclaim something and perhaps even advance. We shall have music again… eventually."
Anne smiled and ran out of the breakfast room to find a servant to take care of the pianoforte. On the way she saw that Elizabeth had been playing on a stool that would have been inadequate for an elf, so she decided to get a new stool while she was at it, or possibly just a new pianoforte. And of course, a master must be engaged immediately… well, perhaps after giving Elizabeth a chance to establish herself… well, nonsense… a master immediately. Elizabeth Bennet was going to play again. Anne thought she might happily submit herself to the auditory torture the next month or two was likely to bring. Who knew, perhaps she might subject herself to some instruction as well.
It would be wonderful to have music in the house again.
After all the excitement of the examination of head wounds, the ladies' little row over said head wounds, and the start of the project to tune the pianoforte; they went in to breakfast somewhat delayed. As was their custom, Anne prepared Lizzy's plate. The servants would have been quite happy to do so, but Anne preferred to take care of it herself for her own reasons.
Before leaving England, they had worked out some strategies that could address Elizabeth's blindness without having to acknowledge it constantly, even to themselves. Anne had a set of plates custom-made which had small indentations on the bottom of the rim, splitting the plate into thirds. Anne always put Elizabeth's food in an exact spot in the middle of each third, and then oriented the plate in a particular way so Elizabeth could know where everything was. Lizzy could simply run her finger along the base of the plate to find one of the corners, and then locate the targeted item using her fork. It was surprisingly effective for such a simple system. They had even experimented with having a silversmith make a plate with three separate compartments, but Elizabeth balked at the esthetics of the operation. Just because she could not see how the table was set did not mean she did not know what it would look like. In practical terms, the invented plate was perfect, but the new system worked just about as well without the ugliness.
Elizabeth, like many others in her situation became a creature of habit. If she had eggs, they were always hard so as to avoid any kind of mess. If she had sausage or bacon, it was always cut small enough to eat neatly. She and Anne kept a relatively constant schedule so what they had to eat on any Monday was very likely to be the same thing they ate the previous Monday. All of this just made the ordinary business of life proceed with less ambiguity, and less need for Anne to tell her what was about. Anne would not have minded in the least, but they both found this solution more comfortable, and Anne was a creature of habit herself anyway.
Elizabeth's drink was also similarly always placed in an exact spot and prepared an exact way. When Elizabeth sat down to eat she could be confident she could reach her drink easily by laying her right elbow exactly on the edge of the table, with her plate as a guide and the cup would be in just the right spot with the handle exactly where her finger needed it. Naturally, it was prepared just to her liking, and had the exact amount of liquid she was accustomed to.
Anne marveled at the system they had put together, that was so good they could probably entertain guests and it would be half the night before they realized anything was amiss. The lady had to laugh at the thought that every dish was placed in a precise location for every meal of every day at Rosings, but Elizabeth was the only person she knew who actually had a practical reason for such exactitude. The precision of Rosings was either vanity, or part of Lady Catherine's strategy to employ a half‑dozen more servants at Rosings than were really needed. Anne had always suspected the former, but recent letters had led her to believe her mother may have hidden depths, and the latter might actually be the case, thought her mother would never admit it. Perhaps she was being kind‑hearted in her own way. It was not her way to give charity beyond what others in her station gave, but having extra footmen or maids was just good management, was it not?
Like nearly anybody who lived in close quarters with a blind person they loved, the ladies had worked out hundreds of little adjustments to how they lived their lives to make Lizzy's blindness less of an issue. Elizabeth's tumble over the step stool the previous night had been quite the anomaly, because the ladies kept their houses almost entirely free of dangerous furniture. You could not completely do without footstools, but there was not a single piece of furniture that did not serve a useful purpose; nor was a single piece of furniture ever allowed to deviate from the place where it belonged, even temporarily. Elizabeth would memorize the positions of everything and avoid things quite automatically, and it had been some time since her last stumble. Her inattentiveness the previous evening had been her downfall, not a failure of their system.
In yet another break from her mother's custom, Anne had long ago invited Mr. Hopkinson to take meals with them. Naturally, this was not mentioned to her mother either. This was not a terribly big break from tradition, as Mr. Hopkinson's status was somewhere between that of servant and that of family. He was probably more analogous to a companion than anything else. Anne invited him initially just so that he would be available to read things to Elizabeth if necessary, or take down any words of wisdom she felt like talking about over meals. After a while, the ladies began to feel he was akin to a missing grandfather, they began to invite him just to have his company, until it became a longstanding custom.
As the threesome sat down to their meal, one of the footmen brought in the day's post. Glancing over the letters, Anne picked one up immediately and opened it anxiously.
"Lizzy, this is a letter from Captain Jamison!"
"What does it say?"
Anne scanned the note quickly, her face frowning more and more as she read, while Elizabeth did her best not to jump up and down in her seat in an all-too-accurate impersonation of Lydia. Knowing how impatient Lizzy was, Anne stopped less than halfway through and started reading from the beginning.
12 Aug 1812
Dear Miss de Bourgh and Miss Bennet,
It distresses me greatly to inform you that I shall not be able to deliver you safely back to England. I offer my sincerest apologies, but it is simply impossible, and unlikely for any other captain with any sense.
As you know, in a blinding bit of irrationality, the United States recently declared war on Great Britain. We have been hearing rumbles about debates in the Senate about war for some time, but most of us dismissed such rumors, as there are always rumors of war. A certain class of politician thrives on that sort of thing, and Washington is a perfect place to gather such like‑minded individuals together. The declaration of war will have caught the British government quite by surprise, as it caught nearly everyone, but nevertheless, Britain is quite prepared for war and will prosecute it with vigor.
In practical terms, this makes it nearly impossible for a rational sea captain to trade with the United States, except in cases where they are willing to take highly profitable cargo with the attendant risks. British ships have blockaded all major American seaports, and all traffic is subject to the vagaries of the British Navy at war. While His Majesty's government still actively encourages trade between the belligerent countries, the war has made it risky to do so. There are numerous Letters of Marque issued which give sea captains and even privateers large rewards for capturing or sinking 'enemy' ships, and some of the captains take quite a liberal view of who is classified as an enemy.
The Navy has also been impressing men into 'service' at a prodigious rate, so even if a captain has been left with his ship and cargo intact, neither of which is guaranteed, he is likely to lose a goodly portion of his crew.
To add insult to injury, should I happen to get through the British blockades to enter your harbor, I would then face the American Navy. It has only two dozen ships to Britain's 800, but they are faster, tougher and more aggressive in this climate, and of course there are American privateers looking for quick profit as well. The privateers are little different than authorized pirates.
Should I accomplish all this, then of course, I would have to do the same thing in reverse.
Perhaps all this sounds a bit self-serving, but you are both intelligent women and I believe I owe you a good explanation. While it would be my honor to take you back home safely, I cannot risk my ship, my crew or my family to do so. I am sorry ladies, but it just cannot be done.
You are probably reasonably safe where you are for a time, but if the war drags on for very long you may want to consider getting away to a somewhat less hostile region. If you could make your way overland to the Canadas, you could most likely safely catch a British ship from one of the ports, but there is an open question about whether you would have trouble crossing the border or not. Ask around very carefully before you engage in such a scheme, as there is a good chance the Americans will be guarding the border with some hostility. There also seems some chance the Americans will try to seize all or part of the Canadas, as that would be an obvious goal for such a ridiculous war. If you could get to the Canadas, I believe there will be a lot of traffic, and there is a better than even chance with your connections you could even get onto a Navy ship.
You might also choose to ride out the war somewhere to the West with more comfort than your present location. New York is a bustling city, right in the forefront of the calls to arms, and bad things can happen. I do not believe you to be in any acute danger, but anti-British sentiment will increase as the war continues and I would dislike having you caught in the middle. It might be better to settle yourselves quietly in a smaller town somewhere to the West. That is the advice I would give my daughters should they be in your position, but I do not know the climate where you are so do anything with great care.
My deepest apologies and best wishes,
Captain Elijah Jamison
"Well, that is not ideal."
Anne snorted at Lizzy's characteristically impertinent response, and replied, "Well, it looks like we are to be Americans for a bit longer. It may not be all bad."
"How so, Anne? I mean… I am quite happy to remain here for a time, but your tone of voice implies you might not be in such a hurry to return home as you were a week ago. Has something changed?"
Anne never quite got the chance to answer, as their butler entered the room to announce a visitor.
"Mr. George Read, ma'am"
"Please give us a few minutes and then bring him to the drawing room."
"Yes, ma'am."
Lizzy looked over at the spot where she presumed Anne sat, and asked, "Mr. Read?"
Fortunately for her equanimity, Elizabeth could not see Anne's deep blush, but unfortunately, the lady could perfectly well assume it.
"Come clean, Anne. Who exactly is Mr. Read?"
"A gentleman I met last night. He… he… he asked me to dance, Lizzy. He singled me out even without having you there as bait."
As intended, Elizabeth laughed at the jest, but she was not to be dissuaded from her purpose.
"Actually, we never quite got around to dancing. I asked to sit out one, and he sat with me for the next…"
Very softly, Lizzy asked, "The next…"
Somewhat sheepishly, Anne squeaked, "… the next three hours?"
Elizabeth laughed at that, and jumped up to dance around the room… or as far around the rooms as she could without tripping over something and bashing her head again, which amounted to a small circle around her chair. Mr. Hopkinson was grinning from ear to ear, and even the footman and maid who had entered to clear up the breakfast things could not resist a hearty laugh.
"Well, by all means, let us go and meet this Mr. Read."
"Mr. George Read, ma'am"
Both ladies stood to greet the gentleman. In yet another signal they had worked out over the months, they stood close enough together that Anne could give subtle signals to her friend. In this case, a light graze across the back of Lizzy's hand with two knuckles was enough for the two ladies to execute perfectly synchronized curtsies, which never failed to impress the easily captivated.
Mr. Read was not in fact easily impressed by empty showmanship, but he was impressed by signs of a close and loving relationship between the two ladies who by Miss de Bourgh's account had only met a year ago. As far as he could tell, if they had been introduced as the very most loving of sisters, he would have believed them.
"Mr. Read, welcome to our home."
Mr. Read very much enjoyed the greeting, as well as the inclusiveness.
"Mr. Read, may I please acquaint you with my dearest friend, Miss Elizabeth Bennet, and my other good friend, Mr. Eldridge Hopkinson."
Read could see that Mr. Hopkinson would not pass muster as a 'gentleman' in England, but here he would do just fine. In fact…
"It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance Mr. Hopkinson. Miss Bennet, I have heard a great deal about you and none of it is exaggerated, I can assure you."
Elizabeth laughed at that, and replied.
"Yes, I assume Anne mentioned a battered and bruised companion. She is always quite precise that way."
The gentleman joined both ladies in a good laugh. He was happy to see that they were not afraid to laugh. The twittering simpering giggles that some English girls exhibited set his teeth on edge.
The gentleman eventually answered, "She seems to have neglected one or two points in her description."
Anne… he had to admit that the lady he had a tough time thinking of as anything but 'Anne', had in fact omitted the salient detail that her friend was blind. There had been a great deal of discussion about Miss Bennet, but that particular fact had not even been brought up. He thought that some might consider that a bad sign… a lady you had just met omitting such an important detail about someone in their household, but he did not hold to that view. As far as he could tell, Anne just considered it unimportant, which was much to her credit.
The two ladies and one gentleman sat down in the parlor in the usual expected places. Being quite observant himself, Mr. Read noticed a few of the signs they used. It took only the slightest brush of her hand to have Miss Bennet and Miss de Bourgh seated simultaneously next to each other. Miss Bennet seemed a very knowledgeable woman, who could thoroughly dominate a conversation if she chose to, but she did not so choose. She participated, listening carefully to all that went on; although he suspected she listened to him more carefully than to Anne. He wondered if it was true that the blind could hear more, or ring more meaning out of what was said than others, but that would have to be a conversation for another day.
"What brings you from Ohio to New York, Mr. Read", asked Miss Bennet after they had some tea and some basic pleasantry had been seen to.
Mr. Read watched Miss de Bourgh carefully. They had touched on this and a few other subjects lightly the night before but he had been so fascinated with her tales of England that he had not gone into it in any depth.
"A canal, Miss Bennet. I am the quintessential American Story. I am an only child, left with no real fortune, but I have my wits about me and I have made a reasonable success moving things from people that have them to those that want them. I would like to improve that process to my own profit and that of my neighbors, so I am here to try to help get a grand canal built."
He watched for the telltale sign that one might see in many of the English upper classes that he had done business with on multiple occasions that they considered 'trade' beneath them, despite the fact that they would not even be talking to him if they were not already engaged in it themselves. There were few people more able to turn a blind eye on their own foibles and inconsistencies than the English gentry, but his observations were for naught. Nether of the ladies seemed to think there was the slightest bit of stench to trade. In fact, they both looked fascinated.
Miss Bennet in particular, looked like one of the bears he once seen in the Canadas, pouncing on a fish in a stream. She wanted to know all about his business, and he suspected by that she meant all of his business.
"There is a proposal to build a great canal from New York to Ohio. It would be 300 miles or so with several locks, much like your Brightwater canal in England. I want to help build one here."
Now the ladies, leaned forward in their chairs eager for details, and he cautiously began a tale of intrigue and politics and payoffs and winners and losers and elevations and drainage and locks and waterways and economics.
"Ohio grows a great deal of grain. Grain is heavy, and difficult to move which makes it expensive, so a good deal of it gets made into whiskey, which is less profitable and heavily taxed, but easier to move. I want to help transport it to the cities like this one that need bread to engage in trade of all sorts of goods. I also believe my neighbors might engage in all types of industries if they could get the goods to market. I want to do my part to build this nation. It is a mercantile nation, founded on trade and industry, especially here in the North and trade requires things to be moved. We want to build an artificial river, ladies… or at least a stream."
Elizabeth was wildly fascinated, and Anne was fairly interested although an hour into it, both ladies could not be torn away from the discussion. It seemed that Mr. Read was a man of significant ambitions. The canal could be the making or breaking of an entire territory. The increased trade alone might be enough to drive the place towards statehood, and he was there right in the beginning. His dreams were big. First move the considerable bounty of the fields, and then follow with some of the new manufactories and mills that were starting to change the world.
After a time, Anne said, "Since you are such a non-stickler on propriety, would you consider staying for luncheon, Mr. Read?"
All three laughed, and Mr. Read watched both ladies carefully while accepting their invitation. A bell chord was pulled and a footman came to organize the meal, while the three carried on their conversation. They had been joined by Mr. Hopkinson some time ago, and he turned out to have certain knowledge that might be useful.
"Mr. Read, I apologize I missed the first part of your discussion. There was a crisis involving a pianoforte, and apparently damage to ears matching Lizzy's damage to her head."
Mr. Read sounded puzzled, until Mr. Hopkinson surprised everyone by walking over to the pianoforte and played a simple tune. He played it correctly, but the sound that came out of the box would have put a cat off a mouse.
Mr. Read just laughed and replied, "Crisis, indeed. The world in general, and particularly every dog in the neighborhood will thank you Mr. Hopkinson. I can see why Miss Bennet was so offended she decided to try to destroy the instrument with her head.
The two men laughed good naturedly, and Mr. Hopkins carried on, "My son actually worked for a time both building and running the Brightwater canal in England. I learned a few things about canals."
Mr. Read took that news with eager interest, as did the ladies and they carried on for quite some time, trying their best to drag every salient detail out that Mr. Hopkinson could remember.
Mr. Read did in fact stay for luncheon, and retired with the ladies back to the parlor after they were done, apparently thoroughly confused about the length of time for a polite visit; which did not distress anybody. Mr. Hopkinson left them together to deal with the pianoforte and a few other duties, promising to talk to Mr. Read another time about any details they may have missed.
After his departure, Elizabeth said, "So I see you are most interested in the canal. Is that what brought you to town, sir? Did you have some specific task to accomplish that will help advance this dream?"
Mr. Read looked at her carefully, and noticed Anne was looking at the lady carefully as well. He also noticed Miss Bennet listening with a different expression than she had been while they idly talked about canals. She had unconsciously turned her head at an angle, he assumed to give her ears a better chance of hearing him, and he suspected this was an important question. There was little doubt that Miss Elizabeth's opinion mattered in this House, and he also suspected the lady would be very difficult to fool. She seemed someone that had her wits about her far more than any others of his acquaintance. Fortunately, he had no intention of engaging in such a foolhardy venture, so he thought to just use his customary American bluntness.
"I originally came to town with the express intent of helping move this project along, thus establishing the fortunes of myself and many others. There are political factors at work, and I have some small skill in the arena."
His emphasis on the word 'originally' was barely a whisper above the normal tone of his discourse, but it was quite noticeable to Miss Bennet.
"Originally, Sir?"
With a smile, he replied.
"Since coming to town, I have become aware of certain… other goals."
"Might you elaborate, Sir?"
This was Miss de Bourgh asking this time, so he gave her his full attention.
"Now, I find I am in want of a wife."
He saw the animated face on Miss de Bourgh drop about as much as it might have if he casually mentioned he was in search of an economical mistress.
The lady asked somewhat timidly, "Well, do not let us delay you sir. You should be courting."
It pained him to realize that he had not been as clear as he liked, even with his customary bluntness, so the man set out to set the record straight.
"I am courting, Miss de Bourgh! I am courting right now, and have been every moment since I became aware of my lack. Can you be unaware of it?"
Now there was not the slightest doubt. A glance at Miss Bennet showed her to be listening as intently as it was possible to listen, and he could see that Miss de Bourgh might just panic and jump to the conclusion that he was courting Miss Elizabeth. She had the look of a lady who did not expect a man to be courting her… as if the very idea were foreign to her. Of course, courting Miss Bennet would be a fine idea, and in fact the best idea in the world, for the right man. Mr. George Read was not that man, or at least he had not been for the past twelve hours.
Bidding all semblance of propriety or good manners a fond goodbye, Mr. Read surprised both ladies by sliding from his chair and landing on his knees, exactly in the middle between the two so they formed the points of a triangle. He further compounded the sin by reaching over to take both ladies' hands in his own, and hoped like crazy they would hear him out.
"Let me be clear ladies. I am courting you, Miss de Bourgh, and I am courting your good opinion, Miss Bennet as I know that none of my desires will prevail without it."
Anne sat in stunned silence, while Elizabeth sat in careful silence, listening for the slightest hint of dishonesty.
"I know this is sudden, and you could in no way have decided anything in a few hours acquaintance, but know that I am resolute and my intentions are honorable."
Giving both hands a gentle squeeze, he continued, "I am not after your fortune, Anne. If I were you, I would be watching for fortune hunters with every new acquaintance, but I do not need it. Our laws here are as barbaric as they are in England so should we wed I would have control over any fortune you might bring, but I would hope you trust me to understand that is your fortune, not mine. In fact, I would be happy to tie it up in a trust or a settlement to keep it to pass it onto our children intact. I do not want your fortune. I want you!"
"Why?"
He wondered if he could manage to distill all the thoughts and feelings of the last day to a few words, and decided he must make a go of it.
"It is partly just a matter of faith. I felt like you were the missing puzzle piece that would complete me the moment I laid eyes on you. I have no idea how I found the initial attraction, but I did, and even stranger, I sucked up my courage and pursued it. I believe you will complete me, and I believe it strongly enough to wager both our lives on it."
"After less than four and twenty hours?"
This was a question he could handle.
"Not necessarily. I came here to court you, not propose… not today anyway. We need some time to get to know one another. I have business in New York for about the next six weeks before I must return to my business in Ohio. Let us use that time to learn if we suit one another. If we do, you may expect an offer."
"Do you always move so quickly, Mr. Read?", asked Miss Bennet.
Mr. Read was under no illusions. He needed this lady's goodwill to succeed in his suit, but he felt like it was something he needed to earn for its own merit. Elizabeth was also a woman he would very much like to have as a part of his life going forward. Aside from already feeling she was a sister he never had, he suspected hidden talents that would be very good for all involved if properly channeled. Her schools were the prime example of what she was capable of. Perhaps she might educate every child in Ohio! Why dream small?
Drawing a deep breath while fortifying himself for the address, he continued.
"I usually do things very carefully Miss Bennet, and this is the most extreme action I have ever taken. If Miss de Bourgh had not mentioned your imminent departure for England, I would have acted much more decorously, but I was not willing to chance having you leave without pleading my case. Sometimes in business, you have to make a decision and live with it. You always have to see opportunities other men might miss and take advantage. However, you must temper that aggressiveness with prudence. I am offering courtship because it is prudent, and it shows the respect a lady is due. I could have it no other way, but make no mistake of my intentions."
Anne asked, "Are you saying that you would make me an offer today, but you are offering courtship out of courtesy and respect?"
Here the man stood on the precipice. It was true he had moved things along headlong in a rush, and he had a hard time explaining why, but he could not regret the decision. His heart was fully engaged, and he may as well just drag his head along for the ride.
"Yes, that is what I am about, Miss de Bourgh. It is my intention to make you my wife, but I wish no regrets or misunderstandings along the way. Should my suit be successful we will have many years together, so a few weeks in the beginning will not matter."
Elizabeth had been listening carefully, both to what was said, and more importantly what was not said, and the way in which it was said. She did not have supernatural powers, but at the moment, she felt like she trusted the man.
Anne surprised both with her next assertion.
"Mr. Read, before you go any further, I need to point something out to you."
"Yes"
Elizabeth could feel Anne's nervousness through their legs which had been touching the entire time and were twitching abominably, even if she had not been able to hear it in her voice. Anne was both distressed by what she planned to say, but resolute in her determination to get it out.
"I am… unhealthy, Sir. I am not at all certain I can bear a child."
Now Elizabeth could tell Anne was staring at her shoes, and probably blushing furiously.
"I have been pale and sickly all my life, Sir. Elizabeth has brought me out of that this last year, but I am not at all certain of my recovery. I was feeling bad enough a fortnight ago to return home, fearing the end was coming."
Elizabeth gasped in consternation, both at the sentiment, and the fact that Anne had withheld this from her. She was somewhat distressed at Anne's secret, but a bit proud of her friend for her ability to pull it off. It was difficult to fool Elizabeth Bennet on a regular basis.
All three took a collective breath, and Anne continued.
"It is true that I am heir to a sizable fortune, Mr. Read, but it is really the estate that is the biggest part of the fortune, and I will not take anything from it but my dowry. I could not bring most of what I own to a marriage. Even if I could, it would not be fair to the estate. If I stay here, I will not be penniless, but neither will I bring an enormous boon. My mother must be able to pass the estate to someone else, and it must be passed whole and complete."
"Thank goodness!"
Both ladies gasped at the unexpected outburst from the gentleman.
Mr. Read hurried to explain, "Ladies, you see… us men have our pride, and I would find my wife bringing a large fortune to be a detriment to mine. I want my wife to bring love, companionship, intelligence, conversation and the ability to help us build our own fortune. If I start with a large fortune that was not earned, the opportunity is lost, do you not see?"
Neither lady had ever given any thought to lack of fortune being anything save a drawback, but if one was after true love and felicity in a marriage, you could see his point, even if you could not agree with it. Elizabeth for the first time wondered how difficult it might be to find true friendship or esteem with the weight of an estate and a large fortune hung around your neck dragging you down.
"And my health?", Anne asked with a quavering voice that indicated in Elizabeth's opinion that her heart was fully engaged, but she was desperately grasping at straws that would allow her to retain her self-image she had built up over all these years.
"Do you have a definitive diagnosis of something fatal, Miss de Bourgh? Perhaps consumption, cancer, blood disease, a bad heart or something of that nature?"
"No, I just know I am unwell."
At this point, Mr. Read had wisely let go of Elizabeth's hand some time past and was on his knees, entirely too close to Anne for propriety or even for what a married couple should do in public, but neither of them had noticed.
"And I must ask it, my lovely Anne, do you want children? You know every woman gambles her life every time she brings a new child into the world, but perhaps your health would make the risk even bigger than usual. Do you want a child… truly want a child… enough to take the chance? I could not bear it if you did so to make me happy."
He was staring at her so intently that there was no need for her to make the slightest answer. He could see the expression roll across her face, first hope, then hopelessness, then fear, then desperation and then… finally resolution. He thought she may have come to a decision.
"Yes, I want my own children. I never thought it possible so I never had to think about it, but I find that yes, I am willing to take my chances with the rest of the wives of the world. I have spent years trying to convince myself it was impossible, but I now see I was just trying to protect myself from disappointment. If you are willing to risk your future heirs on such a frail vessel as myself, I might take the chance with you."
Earnestly, speaking to both ladies, Mr. Read continued.
"I have seen man scarred and nearly destroyed by battle, ladies. I have seen one man sitting next to another, both near to death, and then come back to look at each some time later to find the sicker looking man is now hale and hearty, while the less ill has succumbed. Perhaps I overly simplify things, but I believe the thing that makes some survive and thrive while others falter is purpose. Family, love, charity, duty, ambition, pride… it matters not what drives someone to strive, just that they do it. If you come with me to Ohio, we will build something grand… together."
Anne sighed, and said, "Was all this not supposed to come at the end of the courtship?"
Mr. Read just laughed and said, "A very good point. I had planned a slow and careful courtship, but it seems Miss Bennet has brought me to the point much sooner; and I find I am happy with her insistence. I feel that I must do things properly, so let us begin.
Anne held up the hand he was not holding, to stop him.
"Mr. Read, I will beg you to hold the question that is on the tip of your tongue for a moment, Sir. I shall be happy to hear that question… in six weeks' time."
The gentleman's face fell a bit, and Anne caught his eyes with a fearsome grip, and made sure that he was with pain careful attention to what she said, and not falling into despair.
"You must understand, Sir. I have led a life of quiet desperation. For much of my life I never knew if I would survive the week, or the month or the year. For much of my life, I was not even certain whether my own mother actually loved me, or tended me out of duty. I now know that she does, but the matter was uncertain for some time. You see sitting beside me the only person in the world whom I have always had complete faith knew me and loved me, warts and all."
Mr. Read nodded in acknowledgment, well aware that he was being told things of a very personal nature that were very significant. A glance at Miss Bennett saw that she was paying absolute careful attention to everything being said as well, and her countenance betrayed a touch of sadness at what Miss de Bourgh was saying, but not any particular surprise.
"I can assure you Sir, that it is taking every ounce of self-discipline I have to ask you to continue with your courtship as you offered, and to ask your question in the proper time and place. I would very much like to be certain that we both are making the right decision. You are quite certainly the best man I have ever met, and it would kill me to believe that I chained you to a life of misery simply because you are the first man to really pay me any attention. If our affections are strong insurer, they will survive a six-week courtship strengthened rather than diminished. At that time, we can make a decision based on true understanding of one another."
Although the gentleman had now given free reign to his heart, and considered his own decision to be fixed and irrevocable, he did agree that her idea was sound.
"I shall happily exceed your request, Miss de Bourgh. Every couple deserves a courtship, and while it is entirely possible and in fact admirable to have a proper courtship even after marriage, I would not wish to rush things. Let us do as you say, that we may be happy that we have done things properly."
He was very happy to see the look on both ladies faces. His lady had a combination of happiness, insecurity and longing that he was happy to see; and he was quite certain things would work out as they should, in their own good time.
He had one other piece of business he felt needed to be taken care of.
"Miss Bennett, perhaps I am rushing myself a little bit; but should things work out as we all hopefully will, it would be my privilege to offer you and open invitation to reside in my home as long as you like, be it a week or forever. I realize that the offer is redundant so long as you have Miss de Bourgh's good graces, but I wish to make absolutely certain that you understand how welcome you will always be."
Both ladies smiled shyly, and for the most part everybody was content with the plan. Six weeks would be more than enough time for them to get to know one another, and there was generally little doubt about what the outcome would be.
Elizabeth was generally impressed with what she had seen so far, but she was also aware that she had so far spent only a few hours in the man's company. She would know more after she had spent more time with him, but since she was not the one marrying him, her opinions would be in an advisory capacity at most. She was not even entirely certain that she would offer that much advice. Anne was perfectly capable of taking care of herself.
Mr. Read climbed up from his knees… well, truth be told he was not a young buck anymore, so while he tried to stand up gracefully, he in fact collapsed on his side. A bit of scrambling put him back to rights while the ladies enjoyed a good laugh at his expense… as things should be. Mr. Read thought he would be happy to be ridiculous for these ladies any time it was required, and ultimately the triumvirate was back on their feet, ready to take some refreshments, and decide on their future for the next six weeks.
At least for the moment, and perhaps forever, it seemed that the two ladies were to be Americans.
