Chapter 82

Practising together, watching Eric study new pieces methodically, having him teach her at least an hour each day, and playing just for fun, Georgiana thinks it's a miracle they don't wear out their pianos spending five hours or more a day playing.

With Fitzwilliam's permission, Eric has changed the decor of his apartment radically, removing most of the fabric from the interior until it is as bare as his room in Mr Zumpe's house. This has improved the sound of his piano manifold, and they practise most of the romantic pieces on his large piano.

Still Elizabeth need not complain, there is plenty of playing going on in the drawing-room to entertain her, and of course Eric insists his future sister-in-law practise her skills as well. Even to Elizabeth Eric is quite the taskmaster, it must be Elizabeth's easy-going attitude that provokes him. But still he calls her Mrs Darcy with scrupulous politeness, and shows her his respect without fail. Somehow his stiff politeness seems to bother Elizabeth more than being politely scolded for tiring of an exercise after ten minutes of practice.

'You'd better give up on me as a hopeless case, Mr Fielding,' she observes happily, 'I guess I'm just not the type to strive for perfection. We cannot all be concert-pianists, now can we?'

But despite her cheerful attitude, Georgiana can see Elizabeth is not happy about something, and she is going to ask what it is as soon as Eric has left the room.

He is studying an almost illegible sheet of Renaissance music for Mr Goodfellow's lecture, and since he is in a bit of a hurry to have it ready for the presentation next week, he has decided he will do the translation to piano by himself, and share the results with the others afterwards.

Watching him work at full concentration is no fun at all, so he retreats to his own apartment for some peace and quiet, and Georgiana sits in the drawing-room with Elizabeth, who is trying to perfect a bar of music and finding it very hard to keep working on it. It's very obvious she doesn't care for perfection, it's not in her nature to practise to the exclusion of everything else.

'Do I have to talk to Eric, Elizabeth, tell him to let up on you, a lot? Maybe altogether? He's riding you as hard as he rides me, and it seems to me you find no pleasure in it. You don't seem happy at all playing the piano when he's around.'

Her sister is surprised to be thus addressed, that is clear, and she proves Georgiana had the rights of it by replying, 'I appreciate his efforts to help me become a better player, but it's hard for me to care about those paltry details as I see both of you do. I guess I'm just not meant to be world-class, which doesn't bother me at all.

It's not even his persistence that bothers me, I quite like his dedication, and let's be honest, which mediocre piano-player can boast lessons from an absolute master? I just feel excluded in some way. The men are so familiar with each other, and with you, but your fiancée insists on always calling me Mrs Darcy in a certain tone, which makes me feel ages old, when in fact I'm a few years younger than he is. Same with Mr Manners, except he is Fitzwilliam's age, and he is as formal to you, but still. Why can't they treat me like Bingley does and just call me Lizzy? Unless Fitzwilliam objects, of course, then plain Elizabeth will do just fine.'

Dear Elizabeth, she still manages to put some humour in what obviously is quite a serious matter to her. Apparently she doesn't even realise how much respect she inspires in people despite her tender age. Even Georgiana constantly forgets her sister is just four years her senior, it seems more as if she's Fitzwilliam's age, she is so steady and so self-assured.

'I'm glad you don't mind Eric's insistence on perfection, Elizabeth, even if you cannot give him what he demands. I'm sure he'll have less trouble being more informal towards you than being less exacting as a teacher. I thought it was his growing love for me that caused him to let up on me, but I suppose it was my gaining proficiency.

Why don't you just tell him how you feel, my dear sister, I'm quite certain he only means to show you his respect, he's not trying to keep a certain distance, I'm sure he likes you as much as he likes Fitzwilliam.'

'I suppose I'll have to. I'm afraid he'll misunderstand, though. I know it's unheard of to be as informal as I would like to be, and I'm always afraid to be considered improper, I suppose that's because of my being an upstart to your family.'

Rubbish! Even Miss Colman and Lady Harrington, who attend to Queen Charlotte herself, told Mr Manners how impressed they were by Mrs Darcy's presence and intelligent conversation. But of course that's not what Elizabeth wants to hear right now.

'Do you want me to talk to Eric then, Elizabeth? I'll also give him a hint about the difference in ambition between one person and the next. I'm sure he doesn't enjoy being so demanding towards you, he just doesn't know how to let up. With Mr Manners, you're on your own. Maybe Fitzwilliam can help. And if you do get Mr Manners to be more familiar to you, please ask him to include me, for I feel the same as you do. Did you know they call each other by their first name in private, Eric and him? Being called Miss Darcy makes me feel ages old already, and I'm sure it'll get worse once I'm a missus myself.'

As it turns out, no-one has to interfere for the other, for when they are all gathered around the table for lunch Eric offers, 'I've been feeling very guilty all morning, Mrs Darcy, about my behaviour to you. I know you are not ambitious at all, and still I scolded you as if you were my pupil. You didn't even ask for lessons, I practically forced you to play certain pieces and expected you to obey me. That is not right, you have been so supportive of me from the first, I should repay you with respect and kindness, not treat you like an unwilling child. I'm very sorry, I hope you can forgive me.'

'You know how to make Elizabeth obey anyone? I admire you!'

Fitzwilliam makes a joke out of it, of course, he has really loosened up a lot, and it does make the whole situation less serious, it's almost as if Eric is afraid of Elizabeth's reaction. Undeservedly, for she is really very fond of him, which her reply proves.

'I could never be angry with you, Mr Fielding, I like you too much. And Fitzwilliam is right, you did not force me to do anything. I want to learn, truly, and I'm very proud you're spending so much time on me.

But I just cannot seem to take things seriously enough, I can hear the difference between how I do it and how it should be done, but I cannot spend more than half an hour on seriously trying to improve. It's just not that important to me. I suppose that is the difference between the two of you and me.'

'I'm glad to hear you say that, ma'am, but I'm sure you were rather put out this morning, I saw you weren't happy at all, I don't believe that was nothing.'

Georgiana cannot help but admire her beloved for pushing again, and in the process of excusing himself for not letting up. Dear Elizabeth uses this golden opportunity to let all the gentlemen know what is in fact bothering her.

'You saw right, Mr Fielding, I was a bit unhappy, but not exactly with your being a taskmaster. I like you very much, and the prospect of having you as my brother delights me to no end. But every time you call me Mrs Darcy I feel like a stranger, and an old dame. Can't we be as informal as you gentlemen are? I don't want to be a missus to the people I love, I'm just twenty!

And that goes for you, too, Mr Manners, even though we're not going to be related.'

That causes a few moments of silence, broken, of course, by Mr Manners, who is never lost for words. Not for very long anyway.

'Well, you're right of course, you are just twenty. I knew, but I can't say it ever really sank in, I never truly realised how young you are. You're so mature, and stable, not like a girl at all. I hope you don't find that offensive, I'm not suggesting you're old or anything. I certainly don't object to being familiar with you, as long as your husband doesn't.'

After a look at Fitzwilliam, Mr Manners corrects himself quickly, 'Ah, oh, I see. That's what he meant just now, of course. Well, in that case, Elizabeth, I'd be very pleased if you would call me Frederick. Anywhere, even if we were to find ourselves at Court.'

Poor Eric, he's not that self-assured, he has followed the whole conversation a bit wild-eyed, then observes, 'Of course you're welcome to call me by my Christian name, Mrs Darcy, but I'll have to practise being familiar with you. You're not a girl to me even though I know theoretically that you are indeed a few years my junior. But I respect you way too much to just call you by your first name, though you may think differently, the way I tried to get you to improve your playing. You really didn't mind that?'

Now Elizabeth laughs heartily, and shows she's still very young by replying saucily.

'If I did, I would have just told you, Eric. Fitzwilliam is right, I have a real problem with authority. Which is why I'm very glad to have married him, he doesn't care, he actually seems rather proud of my impertinence.'

'Well, I'm certainly glad to hear you're not angry. And I really will try to be less formal, just please don't correct me as I did you, or I'll be certain to fail.'

'I will help, my love,' Georgiana promises him, 'and I don't want to be the only miss or missus in our little group, so please be kind to me, too. I'm the youngest after all.'

Mr Manners promises, and Georgiana leaves the lunch table a lot happier, as does Elizabeth.

The next evening, they leave for their dinner at Lord Compton's, and Elizabeth cannot but admit she is a little anxious, which is remarkable since she wasn't at all at the ladies' charity, and other events attended by the highest ranks. The only time she ever saw Fitzwilliam's uncle was at their wedding, and she realises she was still more than a little countrified at that time. No matter how quick her mind and how certain she was of Fitzwilliam's affection for her, she still felt a bit overblown by his connections.

But why feel this way now? She has gained so much experience and so many new acquaintances, and has been tested and probed by the fashionable set of London. Why care what one Earl thinks of her, even if he is Fitzwilliam's uncle?

From their conversations the last days, and the letter he sent Fitzwilliam in reply to the latter's announcement of Georgiana's engagement, Elizabeth is inclined to think him quite a character, rich, independent and very fond of having his own way. That's it, she has no idea what to expect; she hopes to find Lord Compton sympathetic, maybe to compensate for his sister's obnoxious personality, but she fears to find him the opposite.

Fitzwilliam seems to respect his uncle very much, Elizabeth can think of no-one else whom she can say that of. Also the Colonel, his own son, talks fondly of his father, but with the same awed respect. Every reason to believe therefore that Lord Compton is as formidable a character as his sister, and possibly more worthy of respect. But will he be likeable?

Mrs Annesley has agreed to join their party, she seems to know the Earl better than one would expect from their difference in rank and the short time Mrs Annesley has been with the family. Elizabeth can hardly wait to see the two of them together, maybe she will get a clue as to why the sedate lady can rejoice in such attention from elderly gentlemen. Does she like the dignified Earl better, or sharp but countrified Mr Bennet? Watching their calm, sophisticated housekeeper surreptitiously, Elizabeth almost forgets to be anxious.

The three of them, Fitzwilliam, herself and Mrs Annesley, are sharing Elizabeth's wedding-carriage, while the other three are using Frederick's. The latter's large, ornate one would easily have accommodated them all, but Fitzwilliam insisted on using their own.

'The roads are fine, Bob is bored, and the horses are getting lazy. A nice long trip across town will be just the thing. Georgiana will be fine with the two gentlemen, Manners is an excellent chaperone for twenty minutes.'

In half an hour they have crossed town, Bob showing off his skill by guiding the carriage across narrow bridges and through tiny alleys. Elizabeth suspects he is taking a detour just to enjoy himself, Frederick's carriage cannot possibly use this route, it's way too large and no sane driver would try to navigate these roads anyway. Fitzwilliam merely looks out of the window once or twice and observes, 'I told Bob to brush up his driving skills, and he looked really happy, he's wasted in the city. I can't wait to have my thoroughbreds back, and ride my hunters through woods and across fields. I'm ready for the country, Elizabeth.'

So is she. But by now they have arrived at a magnificent house in an even grander neighbourhood than their own, and Bob halts before a marble facade at least twice the size of their own entrance.

They are received very politely by a liveried butler, who tells them the rest of the party has already arrived and is waiting in the drawing-room with the young master. Lord Compton will make his entrance at the table.

The hall is even larger than their own, and much more ornate, with hardwood inlays in the panelled walls, lavish gold decorations on the priceless papering above the panels, painted landscapes adorning the walls, and military ornaments in one or two glass cases with short hardwood legs. Elizabeth can see an old pistol and a shiny sabre as they walk by, there is no time to study them but she does wonder why the Colonel's father has such humble keepsakes in such a rich interior. She would have expected priceless China or burnished silver, not aged bronze and cold iron.

Through this lavish hall they are shown into a similar drawing-room, large, with expensive silk Persian rugs on a wooden mosaic floor, glossy hardwood furniture with stiff horsehair seats, velvet draperies in intricate pleats. Not a gentleman's interior but a lady's, most likely this room has not been changed since the Colonel's mother died some seven years ago. Frankly, this is the style Fitzwilliam abhorred so strongly that he preferred to have Kitty and Georgiana change the single room in his house still displaying it into a garish mixture of ancient styles. And donated the furniture to charity instead of having it taken to the attic.

'This house is a relic to my mother's memory,' the Colonel says as he greets them, Elizabeth first of all. 'He never changed any of it, of course he doesn't use it very often, my father prefers to stay in the country all year. It's really remarkable he decided to visit for as much as three weeks. I'd feel insulted not to be trusted with my niece if I didn't suspect him of having an interest to acquaint himself better with the woman who caused such a stir in his family.

Of course his house in the country is much more modern than this, my brother and his wife have made extensive improvements, they couldn't bear to live in a shrine.'

Does the Colonel suggest his father plans to stay in London to get acquainted with her? Did he tell his father about his affection for his cousin's wife? That cannot be true, can it? There is nothing Elizabeth can do but wait and see what happens. This evening at least she will be safe from too much attention from the Earl's quarter, for Mrs Annesley is here on his special request, he will not neglect her.

'Your staff must take excellent care of the house, Colonel, it looks old-fashioned, but not worn. And the curiosities in the hall, I'd expect your mother to have had China, silver, expensive things.'

The Colonel smiles in a very worrying way, he's still showing his feelings so openly!

'My mother wanted to show me she loved me, too, despite my being the younger son. So she always took an interest in my occupation, and carefully preserved some of the things I no longer needed. She was lovely. I don't wonder my father refuses to have this house redecorated; though he's not pining for her, he enjoys life, you'll see.'

Before the situation becomes uncomfortable, the Colonel moves on to the others, greeting Mrs Annesley as heartily as Elizabeth.

'You've come, Mrs Annesley, thank you so much! My father begged to have someone his own age present, for some sensible conversation, he said. He remembered talking to you very pleasantly when you accompanied Georgiana on a visit. Please take a seat, he will join us with my cousin, she was a bit reticent to meet so many new faces.'

And a familiar one, Elizabeth silently adds, one she hasn't seen after the news of his marriage sent her mother into a rage. Elizabeth cannot help thinking the sight of Mrs Darcy must be unwelcome to Miss De Bourgh, though maybe not as much so as to Miss Bingley when they first arrived at Netherfield for Jane and Bingley's wedding. Well, there is nothing she can do about it, and it will be interesting to see whether Miss De Bourgh does indeed show signs of disappointment.

Soon, they are back to their usual comfortable intimacy, only Eric seems a little out of sorts. Is he feeling out of place here? Elizabeth can imagine that he does, she isn't entirely comfortable herself, she feels very much an upstart in this rich interior, and still a bit afraid Lord Compton may not like her and show it a bit too clearly.

Though Eric may feel the same, it's not what he voices to their host in his usual polite fashion.

'Colonel, doesn't your father own a piano-forte?'

Of course, a piano. She should have known, Eric has never shown any discomfort at being surrounded by riches, the only thing that can shake his inner calm is the lack of an instrument.

'Indeed he doesn't,' the Colonel replies readily, 'my mother played the harp, I have no sisters, and my sister-in-law was never taught to play an instrument. Of course we rarely stay here, we do have an instrument at my father's estate in the country, though I suppose it may be an inferior one, it's rather old.'

They talk a little more about instruments, and education, and before they know it the butler arrives to lead them to the dining-room.

As they walk along the familiar hall once more, Darcy wonders why no-one has even attempted to bring this house up to modern standards. Fitzwilliam may call it a shrine to his mother, but to Darcy it is painful to see his late aunt's beloved furnishings slowly grow out of date, and out of use. For some three or four years now his uncle and elder cousin have stopped visiting London altogether, preferring to stay in the country. And Fitzwilliam usually stays with Darcy, professedly because the servants gossip about his exploits, but Darcy suspects mostly because the memory of his mother pains him.

The late Lady Compton was a truly superior character, and Fitzwilliam was her favourite child, spoiled to make up for her initial disappointment not to have a little girl, Darcy always thought. But wouldn't it be better to dedicate one or two rooms to her memory, and have the rest redecorated and refurnished to modern comfort? When his elder cousin takes over his father's title he will need to be in town very often, and this is no place to receive important guests. It's a museum, and rather depressing. Hopefully Anne will not feel the melancholy it exudes to Darcy.

They had some glorious times here when Fitzwilliam's mother was still alive, the heart and soul of her little family, and very glad to offer her nephew, still an only child, the hospitality of her beautiful house and the companionship of her two sons, who were of course of his own age. But Anne never joined them, she was already sickly by then. She may have no memories of this house at all, and despite being old-fashioned it's much more homely than Rosings. Even Elizabeth seems to mostly feel its charms, and not its melancholy.

Lost in his musings, Elizabeth's hand in his but her attention directed towards the paintings and military paraphernalia adorning the hallway, Darcy doesn't register his surroundings until a soft voice breaks into his thoughts.

'Hello Fitzwilliam. It's so good to see you! You look thoughtful cousin, I hope it's not because of me.'

Anne! Has he been so lost in thoughts that he missed entering the dining-room? He looks around, and indeed, Elizabeth must have led him inside, distracted by Fitzwilliam's conversation about this compass and that seascape. Fitzwilliam is introducing her to his father, as if she's his wife, for goodness sake, if he wasn't Darcy's favourite cousin! They've met, of course, his uncle and Elizabeth, they've even danced at their wedding, Darcy remembers, but that seems ages ago. Oh, good, there's Fielding now, and Georgie, no chance for Fitzwilliam to claim Elizabeth towards his father.

A hand on his shoulder causes him to look at his cousin. She looks pretty awful, pale, sunken features, yet she only lacks bloom to be very beautiful, even though she must be at least twenty-five already.

'She's yours, Fitzwilliam, and he knows it, no need to be jealous of our cousin. It's his way to come to terms with your marriage.'

Now Darcy feels ashamed of himself, Elizabeth has never given him any reason to be jealous, and neither has Fitzwilliam. He needs to get over this, it's demeaning to lose control over one's feelings, especially in public.

'Hello Anne, good to see you again. I wish you were in better health, and I'm very sorry if I in any way contributed to your being indisposed. I hope your stay in London will cheer you up a little. Have you had a good journey?'

'Thank you for being honest, cousin. I'm so fed up with being pampered and lied to. I did feel bad when I heard of your marriage, but I have come to realise that wasn't your fault at all. It was maman who fed my hopes, you never gave me any encouragement, and frankly, I didn't act on my expectations either. I should have tried to get to know you, spent time with you, and I would have found out soon enough that my mother's promise was a lie, her own wishful thinking. I waited eight years for your proposals, Fitzwilliam, can you believe how blind and foolish I have been?'

What can he say? His aunt can be very convincing.

'You know our uncle is a lot nicer than I expected. I was always a bit afraid of him, but he was actually very entertaining on the road.

He had a massive row with mama before it came to travelling at all, she insisted on accompanying me and he bluntly refused, said it was time I had a life of my own. Then he told her Mrs Jenkinson would visit her family for the first time in four years. How did he know that? I didn't even realise it had been so long, I never really thought of her having a family missing her. I feel quite ashamed now.

Maman objected that meeting Mr Fielding would mean meeting you and Mrs Darcy, and he retorted that he was counting on it. She burst out in anger, fulminating against the two of you, and he laughed right in her face. Said he had read about Mrs Darcy in the newspapers and was dying to meet her again, expecting her to be a truly superior character and very entertaining.

I'll tell you maman nearly died of apoplexy right there and then. She went absolutely red, then purple, and before she could gather her thoughts and say anything at all, he asked sweet as icing-sugar, 'Have you read about your niece's engagement yet?'

I had, but I hadn't dared tell her, not eager to be the bringer of bad news.

'But our uncle savoured the moment, told her Georgiana had announced her engagement to a very special gentleman, making both cousin Fitzwilliam and yourself very happy. She was almost recovered, eager to hear about the new connection the family would make, and then he hit her with it, 'It's Mr Fielding himself, the supremely talented pianist that the papers are praising sky-high!'

Then he stepped back to enjoy the effect, and he got what he wanted. Such a tantrum maman threw, she raged and screamed, I think she even cursed once or twice. But uncle remained calm of course, and I rejoiced for dear Georgiana, having found someone she could really love, I can't wait to meet him and hear him play. Both of them.

Then uncle whispered to me, 'Have your maid pack for a three week visit, and if she's quick enough we'll be off before dinner.'

And we did, leaving mama in a state. You know he even took Mrs Jenkinson to her home, it wasn't far out of our road, but he could have left her to take the post. It was a very humble house where Mrs Jenkinson lived. Anyway, once we were by ourselves we talked, for the first time ever. He was easy to confide in, and hearing that cousin Fitzwilliam and you worried about me made me feel very good. I'm planning to enjoy myself here, cousin, though I will be scared to death of strangers at first.'

Darcy cannot remember Anne ever having talked so much, and with so much feeling. Maybe she does have some character after all. He has made appropriate sounds and comments in response to her account of her journey, and now he affirms, 'I'm sure you will have a good time here, Anne, our friend Manners knows everyone and he'll make sure you will find a few companions your age.'

But now he wants to be with Elizabeth, it feels wrong to be away from her, though he is glad to have spoken to his cousin. And Elizabeth is trying to catch his eye, the rest is already seated and she has saved a place for him by her side. Anne has a seat between Manners and Fitzwilliam, on the other side of the table, and Darcy's uncle is of course at the head of the table, right next to Elizabeth. Despite having Mrs Annesley on his other side, he does claim Elizabeth's attention more than Darcy likes, the old man is clearly planning to enjoy this evening, seated between two intelligent women.

But as soon as he sits down, Elizabeth takes his hand and squeezes it, leaving Darcy's uncle to Mrs Annesley for a few moments to whisper in his ear, 'If you act out here, I'll just let you. Maybe look at you fondly, or kiss you. These are your relatives.'

She knows. It's just incredible how subtly she can observe him, he would have sworn her attention was totally taken up by Fitzwilliam.

'You're so cute I want to eat you, beloved.'

She strokes his cheek gently, she wants to kiss him but is restraining herself, and he has to control himself, too, for he wants to lean into her strokes, rest his face in her hand. At least she's not angry at him, it must seem as if he doesn't trust her, he doesn't want to be jealous over her, it just happens.

'So Darcy,' his uncle breaks a very dangerous moment, as if he knows Darcy is at the verge of making a fool of himself, 'what's it like to have your wife change from a country girl into an icon of fashion?'

He sounds perfectly sincere, not a hint of deprecation towards Elizabeth, she must have used the term country girl herself, Darcy knows she hated her own naiveté when she first came to live in the city. And it works, the moment of intimacy is gone in an instant, and he squeezes Elizabeth's hand a little and formulates a reply.

'I feel very proud when I enter a room filled with admirers, uncle, but I know Elizabeth herself would prefer to be back at Pemberley, and not have everyone stare at her.'

'You get plenty of admiring looks yourself, Fitzwilliam,' she interjects.

That is true, and they make him feel good, because they make him feel worthy of her.

'I can see you are very happy together, Darcy, and I'm glad to see that. I was so very happily married myself, no riches or eminence can compare to the feeling of being with one's other half.'

Since the first course has been served by now, Elizabeth has released Darcy's hand and is talking with his uncle and Mrs Annesley cheerily, mostly about the London scene. Darcy finds his attention pulled towards the conversation between Anne and Manners, they seem to have hit it off quite readily. Of course Manners is such an outgoing person, it is hard not to like him, in much the same way as Bingley is very likeable, but somehow less unaffectedly so. Manners is very much aware of how the world works, more so even than Darcy himself.

Anne is eating well, she is so distracted by Manners' description of the girls he plans to introduce her to that Darcy dares to study her looks and her behaviour. He vaguely remembers her lady always pushing her to eat more, and Anne merely playing with the contents of her plate, but now she does nothing of the kind, she eats daintily, but a slice of bread is decreasing in size steadily, and she skilfully separates the meat from the bones of a roasted bird's wing.

The quality of the food is of course excellent, though it resembles their own fare more than what Anne is used to; Elizabeth described aunt Catherine's furniture as expensive to show off her fortune, and the dishes she usually has served are show-pieces, cream-enriched dainties with the most expensive ingredients of the season. Well-aged venison, imported truffles, rich ragouts, the kind of dishes Elizabeth dislikes for their excess of flavours. Maybe Anne just doesn't like her mother's preferred cuisine, she seems to appreciate a simple roast well enough, and the greens that must have cost her uncle a fortune to get in winter.

He tries some himself, it's cabbage! But not at all as the poor people of London are reputed to eat it, boiled to mash and without any added spices. This is exquisite, crunchy and delicately flavoured, he must ask his uncle's cook to share the recipe with his own.

'Are you very tired from your journey, Miss De Bourgh?' Manners asks politely.

'I was when we arrived, though the journey itself was very pleasurable, seeing new scenery, getting to know my uncle, telling him about my disappointments and my hopes for the future. But this morning I felt fine, nervous to meet strangers, but not tired. Somehow breakfast tasted much better than at home, and the Colonel and I had a nice little walk outside.'

'I'm afraid the air is not as good as in the country, some days it's actually very uncomfortable to go outside with all the smoke. And in summer those fumes lessen, but the river and the alleys start to smell rather noticeably. But I guess good company counts for much.

This year I'll certainly escape town in summer, Darcy has invited me to come to Pemberley. Of course I have my own estate, but somehow I always get bored when I'm by myself, I tend to seek society all year round.'

Well, Anne is certainly charmed by Manners, but her next observation spoils all cousin Fitzwilliam's expectations of her preferring to stay in Manners' country house if she were to marry him.

'I so agree! I have rarely been to town, but I am certain I'll prefer it to the country, it's so boring to always see the same faces. I'm a bit wary of strangers, but I hope to get used to them really quickly. Isn't Mr Fielding handsome? And my dear cousin Georgian has matured so gracefully, she's so beautiful, and so well-dressed. I can't wait to hear them play. Do you think I'll be able to wear fashionable dresses like that? I'm so terribly skinny, I've no figure at all.'

'I'm sure you will, Mrs Darcy has discovered the most brilliant boutique in a slightly forgotten part of town. Forgotten by our peers that is, for the businesses there are blooming with a growing number of local customers. The owner of this little boutique is a genius, she develops her own ensembles, and she has something for every figure. I'm certain she can find a style for you.'

Darcy does not recognise his cousin, she's so different from the last time they met. Of course he is, too, but for totally different reasons. No-one ever forced Darcy to do anything. Anne's lack of appetite must have some physical cause, how else could she have gotten so sickly? Aunt Catherine never tried to keep Anne from eating, did she? And there was plenty of fresh air at Rosings, even if she didn't dare to ride she could have rambled, like Elizabeth.

Thinking back at a certain scene at Netherfield, with Miss Bingley and Mrs Hurst ridiculing Elizabeth behind her back for being an excellent walker, Darcy has to conclude that rambling, though a very healthy and pleasant form of exercise, is probably not entirely estimable, his aunt would never have allowed Anne to do so. And he can remember several instances where Anne was discouraged from playing with her cousins for fear of her getting hurt in some boisterous game. Though not from the first, for she used to be quite a tomboy.

He decides to ask.

'Fitzwilliam and I both remembered you as quite a tomboy, Anne. Always climbing trees and falling into streams and skipping pebbles with the rest of us. Do you remember?'

She looks at him, surprised to have him ask a question so totally unrelated to their conversation, and her face goes soft with the memory.

'I do, Darcy, though it seems a lifetime ago. Once, at Pemberley I think, for there was this other boy present, my age, can't remember his name, we all ran off to some village to look for chestnuts under this huge tree. But there weren't any on the ground, I suppose it was too early for them, and Spencer dared me to climb it to shake them down.'

Darcy remembers, Anne sure had some mettle then, his eldest cousin hadn't wanted to climb that tree himself and said the lightest must go.

'He lifted me onto the first branch and I quickly managed to get to a branch that wasn't too thick to shake loose some chestnuts. But then the three of you forgot all about me, gathering them. And that one boy helped me out, he was small and a bit squeamish, but he caught me as I let myself drop from the first branch. Those were the best chestnuts we ever found.

Do you remember that boy, Fitzwilliam? Mama didn't like him one bit, and I didn't understand why.'

'George Wickham was the boy's name. Spencer called him little George, and merely tolerated him because he was so small, but he was my friend and I wouldn't stand for leaving him behind. He was our steward's son.'

'So that's why mama didn't like him. I wondered what became of him, probably a clerk somewhere if his father was your dad's steward.

But anyway, you're right, I was a tomboy, even at home. Until papa died and I got really sick with flu or something. Then mama thought it was safer to keep me close and make a lady out of me. But I never got really well again after that, I lost my appetite and mama hired a lady to keep an eye on my health and my education. Still, I have some good memories of those summers.'

During this tale, Manners has sent a few significant looks at Darcy, it's clear he has an opinion on the whole affair. Darcy certainly has. As Anne has told her story, her father's decease was a turning point, and Darcy can imagine a girl falling ill with grief after losing a favourite parent. The restrictions placed upon her after that and a lack of exercise and challenge in her life may very well have sucked the life out of a spirited child. That is so sad!

'Well, a bit of dancing and some lively chatter with pleasant young ladies will make a huge difference, I'm sure.'

Manners has the right attitude, since nothing can be changed about the past, better look ahead and see what the future will bring poor Anne. At the very least, their uncle now has an interest in her well-being, and he will ensure Anne will not have to return to the same situation he has helped her escape.